


Multiversal Singularity

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> They’re a myth.  A legend.  An old tale meant to scare sparklings into behaving that’s become some kind of sad reminder of the war.  They’re certainly not <i>real</i> and tossing Jazz around through space-time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NK (NKfloofiepoof)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NKfloofiepoof/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** G1-ish  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Jazz/Starscream, Others  
>  **Warnings:** Graphic Violence, Dark, AU like whoa, Canon? What canon?, Character Death, Read At Your Own Risk, Sticky  
>  **Notes:** A [tfficmeme](http://tfficmeme.dreamwidth.org/) request fill. The request can be found [here](http://tfficmeme.dreamwidth.org/1003.html?thread=13803#cmt13803). Of course reading the request will spoil the plot, but up to you! Please don't make spoilery comments, ok? And there’s some dark stuff in here, so if you’re sensitive to graphic violence and even some gore, then you might want to skip this fic.  
>  **Notes2:** Special thanks to NK for her tireless work editing my mess.  <3

Jazz could smell it long before he could see it. The Sea of Rust had a distinctive odor, and it could be summed up in ‘repulsive’. The waves crashed against the shore, echoing through the canyon ahead of him with a haunting rush and boom. It sounded like a monster was in there, but Jazz knew the real monsters were behind him. Still, despite everything he had done in his life, despite everything he had already survived, Jazz hesitated at the opening to the canyon.

This was his last chance to turn back, but behind were the Decepticons that had hunted him to this desperate last bid for freedom. It wouldn’t take them long to pick up his trail, and if he was standing here when they came, he’d never escape again. There were just no more places left to run, and Jazz didn’t have the energy to get him there anyway. Getting lost in the narrow, twisting canyons, the wind and waves to cover the sounds of his movements, truly was his only remaining option. There was energon in there too. Probably tainted by the powdery, rusted metal sand that blew over his feet and already invaded his seams, but energon all the same. He was going in there to die, Jazz realized. To die, but only when he couldn’t survive any longer, and at least it would be on his own terms, not in a dank cell while enemies laughed at his pained cries.

_Alright, Jazz. Onward, my mech, cuz standin’ around ain’t doin’ ya no favors._

Bracing himself, Jazz strode forward. The wind buffeted him, but that was more good than bad. It quickly dusted away his footprints even as it blew the sand and grit between his seams to sting against proto metal and sensitive cables. He ignored it as best he could, sticking to the middle because the wind seemed worse along the walls of the canyon. The roaring crash of the Sea made his audials ache, but he didn’t dare turn down the gain. Above him the walls angled in, but a flying Decepticon could still spot him, so he looked up often, as well as checking behind him. His prints disappeared even as he watched, and another dozen paces took him around just enough of a bend that anyone that stood at the entrance wouldn’t be able to see him.

Some of the tension eased. Not much, but Jazz was just that much safer than he had been a few minutes before, and safety was a commodity in _far_ too short supply. He would take it where he could in any amount he could claim. Always had, but the end of the war had given even a Polyhexian guttermech a new appreciation for just what the word ‘safe’ meant.

The war turned brutal after Optimus Prime fell. Optimus had been their moral compass, but more than that, every last one of the Autobots had loved him. They turned cruel themselves, but not before Prowl gathered them all up and fled back to Cybertron in the hopes of joining up with Ultra Magnus’ little group of guerrilla fighters. They had, but then the confusion over who was actually the leader led to -what Jazz knew now as- petty bickering. Magnus was about rules, and he was left in command on Cybertron. Clearly, according to him, Prowl should stand as his Second. The Autobots from Earth had served _with_ Prime though. They insisted that Optimus would have appointed Prowl his replacement. And since Megatron had taken the Matrix when he killed Prime, there was no way to let tradition decide. The troops were divided, and squabbling -as well as a few fist fights- broke out despite Prowl and Magnus being willing to try to find a balance.

Jazz himself had been annoyed. Prowl was better suited to the war and leadership. Magnus was rule-bound. He ran border raids and made a nuisance of himself for Shockwave to deal with, but they were merely surviving. Not a single step toward peace had been made… well, ever if he was going to be honest. No, the first step was Megatron blowing a hole through Optimus’ chest. Even the Slagmaker had looked a bit surprised.

Then, before the Autobots could get their slag figured out, Megatron was there on Cybertron. A raid went bad. A rookie made a mistake, and the Decepticons found in less than two days what had remained hidden for countless vorns. Autobots scattered. Prowl and Ultra Magnus shouted orders, contradicting one another, then trying to obey one another. Three Autobots were dead before Jazz hacked the comms and stole command for himself. They escaped, but Magnus was captured.

Then publically executed.

Prowl wasn’t liked by Magnus’ team. They had wanted to try to rescue their leader, but Prowl had said no. Jazz had backed him up. They’d lost four and were hiding in a series of bolt holes. They needed to _think_. Unfortunately, Magnus’ team wasn’t thinking much better than Prowl’s. Everyone wanted revenge, and those mechs that fought and argued banded together for that end.

They were in separate places, cautious of using the comms, so even Jazz hadn’t caught wind of the raid until the executions of the captives were broadcast across Cybertron. The kid, Hot Rod shouted curses at Megatron through terrified sobs, but he was still killed. Bumblebee looked sadly into the monitor, lips moving in a silent apology to Jazz. His helm hung in shame as Megatron obliterated his spark. The twins fell as one, even though it was Sunstreaker whose spark was shot. Morbid though it was, Jazz thought that answered that question about spark-split twins.

Things fell apart quickly from there. Not that they had been slow-going before, but Jazz could hardly keep up. There was no caution anymore. The Decepticons found two of the bolt holes, and Prowl died. Skyfire took out Skywarp, but then Starscream and Thundercracker tore the shuttle to pieces.

Jazz tried to keep his small band of survivors alive after that. It was cold, calculated survival. He had Mirage and Hound at first, Skids and Springer too. Springer was a hothead though, and when he caught word of Kup being captured, he stormed off and got himself and Kup killed. Jazz tried to keep a roster in his mind, but there were more dead than alive anymore.

Then they lost Hound in a _stupid_ accident. Seekers were flying overhead, and they ducked into a rickety building. “Touch nothin’,” Jazz had ordered, barely daring to breathe. The place wasn’t safe, but it was more dangerous in the open. They’d managed to nab some energon, had gotten away clear. The Seekers weren’t _searching_ , just patrolling, so if they could just stay quiet for a couple hours, they’d be able to slip away into the underground.

The quiet settled in, and Jazz dared to let himself drift on the edge of recharge. Let them all get a little rest before they pushed on. He’d been startled back to full wakefulness by a sharp gasp and loud groaning. “Run!” he had ordered, and dove from the building. Mirage was on his heels, and Skids –who had let his curiosity get the better of him- had been near the exit. Hound though, was stuck, and Jazz knew the mech had known it the second their optics met.

Hound’s mouth had shaped the word, ‘run’, then the building came down. Jazz dove into his alt mode, Mirage and a babbling Skids following him. He cut to the side down an alleyway, the worst of the building only just missing their afts. They’d fled and hidden for weeks after because they Decepticons _looked_ for them then. There were broadcasts, offered rewards…

Jazz had a problem too. Skids had caused Hound’s death, accident it had been, but the last Praxian on the planet was eaten alive by his guilt. He slipped out when Mirage and Jazz were recharging, leaving behind all his energon rations and a rare printed flimsy of Praxus Crystal Gardens he must’ve carried since before the war.

“We should go after him,” Mirage had said, but before either of them could wrestle their consciences against their desperation to survive, the broadcast started. Skids stood bound before Megatron, bravely pointed the mech in the opposite direction from the one Jazz and Mirage were in as his hiding place, claimed that it didn’t matter because he’d killed his friends with that building anyway. He just wanted to die too.

Wrong thing to say. Megatron let Vortex have him, and Skids suffered for eight days before his spark finally guttered from the stress. All of it broadcast ‘just in case’ Skids had been ‘incorrect’ about his friends being dead.

Then Jazz lost Mirage to a well-placed sniper’s shot. There were others. Fewer and further between though those broadcasts became, until the day Megatron announced that the cleansing was almost complete. Jazz’s face was plastered up everywhere, the image recent, and he cursed his idiocy for getting caught on surveillance. He was the only survivor, and there was a _hefty_ reward on his head. He had no choice but to truly run. His last raid was it, that was the energon he had. It was that desperation, and the realization that the greedy Decepticons were using every spare moment they had to hunt him down, that drove him to the Sea of Rust.

Jazz was starving as he stopped at the canyon’s mouth and stared out over the rusty red-orange water of the Sea. It was aptly named, and the smell of it clung to the olfactory sensors in his nose, cloying and thick. Rust. It smelled like death and decay, but part of the reason the Sea was so rusty was all the drilling and mining in the area long, long ago. The Sea had once had a different name, but Jazz hadn’t the formal education to ever learn it. It didn’t matter. What did was that in one of the myriad caves, gullies, and canyons that edged the Sea there was energon. Natural, liquid energon that seeped up to the surface from Primus only knew where.

Tired as he was, Jazz angled along the narrow shoreline to his left. The first few openings he poked his helm into show no signs of seep, but then he found a little cul de sac type of canyon with damp sand by the wall at the very back. The walls curved up and over Jazz as he entered, the roof incomplete, but the space feeling and looking like a dome with a hole in the roof. The hole ran in a widening gap toward the opening of the little canyon, but it was not a bad spot. He might even be able to recharge in there tucked up against the wall.

With careful hands, Jazz scraped away the damp sand. It grew wetter very quickly, and he pressed with both hands down against it. Wet fingers were lifted and sniffed, but he couldn’t tell by scent if it was water or energon. Jazz reached out to dig deeper, but then froze at an odd sound. He looked back over his shoulder, then up, but there was nothing there. He was nervous, on high alert. This was normal of late, and he carefully cycled a breath while reminding himself that he would need to get used to a whole new set of sounds.

Sand was scraped away again as Jazz tried to form something of a deep bowl. He was pretty sure he was above sea level, but he’d only heard about this in one of Perceptor’s long and babbling stories about his explorations of Cybertron when the scientist had been young and in the academy. Daring glitch had even gone deep to research Empties. Jazz grinned at the memory and shook his helm, only to freeze as the odd rustling sound repeated.

A glare was cast at the Sea. Was it the surf? He looked up, very accustomed to doing so since Seekers liked to attack from above, but still nothing. Jazz frowned as he tipped his helm this way and that. He wasn’t even sure which direction the sound had come from, and it wasn’t repeating as he listened. _Echoes in here?_ he wondered, optics sweeping the canyon. There was a temptation to go look, but long experience in running from Decepticons kept him still. Sometimes they weren’t sure and would knock around. It’d successfully startled a few recharging Autobots into giving themselves away.

Jazz felt a wetness against his fingers and glanced down. His spark lurched, and under the surge of hunger was relief. Energon! It was murky, clearly full of impurities, but it was energon. He scraped the hollow a little deeper and had to force himself to resist. He had energon now, no matter how unfiltered. He could rest a bit, let the sediment he’d stirred up settle, then-

That had been distinct. A soft _shushush_ of a foot in the sand.

Careful to move slowly, Jazz shifted his weight and began to turn his helm to look over his shoulder. There was no pain, but in the instant before he would have seen the Sea, the world exploded into blinding white light.


	2. Chapter 2

When the world snapped back into focus, Jazz remained tense and still. There was sound all around him, but not waves crashing or wind howling through tight canyons. What there was, was a honk in the distance, mechs shouting, the sounds of _dozens_ of mechs driving along a road. Old sounds. Sounds Jazz hadn’t heard since well before leaving Cybertron on the _Ark_. Fairly sure no one was close enough to touch him, he pushed himself up off his face and opened his optics only to stare at the ground under his hands. Metal. The kind of plating used to pave roads and sidewalks and…

_How the frag am I in an alley?_ Jazz wondered, then inched himself upright, back pressed to the nearest wall as he tried desperately to get his bearings. Not an easy task as his gyros whirled out of sync for a moment. He tried to process the light and sound and _smell_ of a bustling Cybertronian city while knowing it was impossible that he was in one.

Once he felt a little more steady on his feet, Jazz crept to the end of the alley with his spark still pounding hard in its crystal. His optics moved constantly, but there didn’t appear to be anyone else there in the shadows with him. However, beyond the narrow, dark gap between two massive buildings the world bustled with activity and life. The sight sent Jazz’s processors spinning again. Mechs strode past him on the sidewalk, most not even noticing him as he edged out, though one sneered and hurried on. Beyond the walkway was the road. A wide, eight lane avenue with mechs and transports rushing in both directions.

Jazz stepped back into the shadows and tried to catch his breath. _Ok. Ok. I’ve been caught and Soundwave’s fraggin’ with my head._ But to what end? All the Autobots were dead. He was the last one. Was this just an effort to find a creative way to torture him before they finally killed him?

And couldn’t Soundwave at least have left off some of the reality? Jazz was slagging exhausted and hungry still. His subspace was empty other than a few mementos he had never been able to part with. His first light flute, though it hadn’t worked in ages. There was a sparkly crystal embedded in a stone that Beachcomber had found and given him on Earth. He’d always meant to put it on the shelf in his quarters. The third and last item was an image cube. It had been on Jazz’s rarely used desk in his rarely used office in the _Ark_ , and was the only thing he had time to grab when Prowl ordered the evacuation. All treasures he had clung to that wouldn’t do him a lick of good in this big, loud, likely expensive city Jazz found himself in.

Assuming it was real. Which was impossible.

Right?

Jazz wandered, sticking to shadows as much as he could at first, nervous of just what was in store for him, but then he grew bolder when he wasn’t attacked. He explored, trying to figure out which city this was without asking. Not Praxus. Too dirty and hardly any Praxians. The odor kept tripping Jazz up with bouts of vertigo-inducing nostalgia. Hot engines, exhaust, oil and grease on the roads. Lower Iacon maybe? It wasn’t familiar enough to be Polyhex. Majority weren’t fliers, so not Vos. Could easily be Tarn or Kaon though. Or Protihex if he wasn’t too far into the gutter.

Pitslag. He could be anywhere. Which meant either asking for information, or getting close enough to mechs to listen to them. Accent could tell a lot. Jazz certainly still sounded Polyhexian, and it’d been ages since he’d been there. Of course, Jazz knew he looked rough, and that wouldn’t help him get close enough to anyone to learn anything except how fast the enforcers would come when called. Pits, he still had the rusty sand of the Sea clinging to his plating. He probably looked half Empty, come to think of it- which wasn’t exactly far from the truth. He needed energon first, then a safe little hole to grab some recharge in.

Taking a risk, Jazz slipped into the first store he saw. He didn’t have a single cred to his name, so it was time to steal. He nabbed a few small cloths and tucked them into his subspace before angling toward some of the finer stuff in the store. As expected, the shopkeeper chased him away with threats of calling the enforcers and how he wouldn’t let scum steal goodies from his shelves. Jazz scurried out, playing the part of cowed guttermech easily. He had what he came for, and while he didn’t hold with stealing from working mechs, he’d played this game before.

Back into another narrow, dark alley and out the other side. Another quick trip through another shop, and he escaped with a bottle of solvent. Energon would be better, but pricy goodies wouldn’t help Jazz’s hunger and would likely grab more attention than a missing bottle and a few cloths. Not wanting to hang about just in case, however, Jazz angled his way deeper into the city. The lights flickered more. The dank, dark corners held more mechs that looked like they’d had it as rough as Jazz.

It took him a few hours to find what he was looking for. Small and grubby, the motel was the sort used by buymechs and criminal types to make deals. No surveillance. No security. Jazz walked in and past the desk with his head down and optics dim. The mech at the desk behind the transparasteel window didn’t even glance at him, and Jazz was down the hall and up a lift only moments later. He listened by the doors until he found one with no sounds, then knocked. Then knocked again.

Nothing.

Hacking the lock took nothing, but Jazz still moved cautiously, his spark pulsing a bit harder, audials carefully tuned. Just because there had been no answer didn’t mean the room wasn’t occupied. It was dark and the walls felt too close, and he stood there with the closed door to his back and listened.

Nothing, and Jazz heaved a sigh of relief. The room had no private washrack, but that was fine. He checked the that window was covered, then turned on the light. Dim orange flickered now and then with an uneven rhythm, but it was enough for him to see by and clean up a little. The first cloth was soaked in cleanser, then Jazz scrubbed his face and helm first before he worked his way down. He was on the last of the cloths and the last of the cleanser when he sighed and popped his panel with a heavy sigh. He’d worked the streets before, and while he’d really rather not risk it, he could do it again. Jazz tipped his helm as he wiped the cloth over his spike, not a tingle of desire in him.

How long had it been?

No. No, he was definitely not going to think about any of that.

The answer was Earth, and it rose unbidden. He snapped his panel shut as if he could bar further memories from surfacing with just that single barrier alone. It didn’t work, and Jazz struggled to shove the aching loneliness back down into the depths. He couldn’t afford to get lost in feeling sorry for himself now. He’d made it this far, hallucination or not. Giving up wasn’t an option. It never had been for him. Jazz cycled his vents and gave himself a shake.

_Focus on the next step. Energon._

There were no mirrors and the lighting was awful, but that was alright. Jazz could see he was cleaner, but certainly not shiny. Shiny would stick out. No, he looked like a mech that could maybe _just_ afford to do what he’d done and wipe up a bit. He didn’t look like gutter’s trash, so that might get him into a bar or two, but he wasn’t going to be allowed in any of those pretty shops. That was fine. Bars held more answers, and drunk mechs would laugh at ‘dumb’ questions like, ‘what city am I in again?’.

Jazz left the motel the same way he came in, and found himself back on the street. It had been a while since he transformed. That grinding in his gears would have slagged Ratchet off. Still, it was nicer to drive for a change, and also made a better impression when he found the right type of bar to stop and transform in front of.

_Yep. It’s a bar_ , Jazz thought as he stepped inside. Music played just loud enough to be heard over the din of the conversing mechs. Every now and then there would be a louder laugh. There was a vid screen over the bar and it looked like the standard news reel type broadcast. Jazz would have loved to park his aft there and watch, but sitting at the bar meant _drinking_ at the bar, and he was still shy the creds.

Luckily, it was a busy enough place that he could snag a mostly empty glass here and there. High grade, and it burned its way into Jazz’s tanks, but it was better than nothing. He was careful not to get drunk, but the freshly empty glass in his hands gave him the perfect excuse to drop into an available seat and beam at the mechs already sitting at the table.

“Hi!” Jazz greeted in a cheerful chirp.

The three shared a look, then the big blue one snickered. “Hello, friend. Doin’ ok there?”

“Uh huh.” Jazz spun the glass around between his hands. “Think I got lost, but hey! Bar. Bars are good.”

“Bars are good,” agreed another. All three were easily twice Jazz’s size. Heavy haulers. Construction maybe? “Where are ya lost from?”

“Sounds like Polyhex,” the third said. “Long way from there, little mech.”

Jazz waved a hand like he was shooing away a fly. “Been gone from there a long time, m’mech.” He looked around the bar, squinting. “Where am I anyways?”

That got the anticipated laugh. “Iacon,” said Big Blue. “How much have you had?”

Truth be told, probably too much, because Jazz could feel the tipsy buzz in his head. He shrugged, then exclaimed, “Iacon! Tha’s right!” He added a drunken giggle to the mix, and slouched in his seat a bit. “M’friend lives here.” Then he straightened and stood, saluting the mechs with his glass. “Better go’n find him.”

“We can-”

“Hush, Stacks,” Stack’s companion said as Jazz turned and wobbled away.

_Yes, Stacks, hush,_ Jazz thought as he lost himself in the press of taller frames. He didn’t want to have to say who his friend was, or where he lived, or what his own name was. In fact, he needed _out_ of the slagging bar _now_!

Dark alleys were nice too, and Jazz crouched in an alcove that reeked of spilled energon blood and mech fluids. The high grade still hummed though his lines, but not enough to really be drunk. It was the taste of it. That hard, Cybertronian processed flavor that hadn’t passed his lips in ages.

What if he really had somehow traveled through time? What if what he’d heard back there in that canyon had been some kind of portal?

Jazz slumped and heaved a tired sigh. He needed to rest, but it wasn’t safe. If he was truly in the past, then that meant the war was coming. It was going to start all over, and he didn’t think he could bear it. The weigh pressed down on his spark as he thought about all the mechs he’d seen and passed. They were all so _alive_ , but not for all that long.

Melancholy coiled around his spark, heavy, crushing. _Frag it all,_ Jazz decided and curled up. He thought he heard the same _shushusss_ sound that he had before he opened his optics on this world, but he ignored it. Frag everything. If he woke up dead, then at least he wouldn’t be hungry anymore.

~ | ~

Jazz’s fatalism never lasted very long, he thought incongruently as he fled down a winding path. But slag Bleeders. Those bastards weren’t making a single cred off his dented aft. They could steal energon from bars like Jazz had been for the past few weeks if they wanted a meal. They sure as slag weren’t getting his blood!

Pits, but he had not missed this slag. Enforcers that did nothing but get their jollies messing with poor mechs. Bleeders. Starving buymechs. The Syk-addicted glitches frying their processors for the chance to escape their living hell for a few hours. Jazz didn’t want to be one of them. He didn’t want to be a thief or con artist.

He didn’t want to die.

With a huff of laughter, Jazz tried a door and nearly fell over when the rusted hinges squealed as it opened. He looked back, still able to hear the shouts and pounding feet. They were getting close, taunting, calling for him. Jazz slipped through the small gap, chest plating scraping the edge, but the door wouldn’t open any more. He hid behind it, respiration held and spark throbbing fast as the Bleeders trotted into the area.

“Com’on! He ain’t that fast!” one shouted, and the pack of five ran on.

Jazz slumped against the wall behind him as things went quiet and let out a slow, soft breath. No one in the gutters moved or made a sound when Bleeders were close. No one wanted to become the prey to replace the one they were chasing. Which is why when Jazz heard that strange scuff-scrape that seemed to haunt his dreams off to his right in the dark, he tensed. For a moment nothing happened, but just as he dared to turn his helm to try to look, the world went white again.


	3. Chapter 3

The ground under Jazz vibrated, heat blasting him with the concussive wave of a bomb going off. He blinked his optics online and squinted into the fires that surrounded him.

It really _had_ been a bomb going off!

“Slag me!” Jazz scrambled to his feet and fled as another missile fell from the sky. He threw himself to the side and covered his audials even as he rolled. The deep _thoom_ of the explosion rattled his gyros and sent his spark galloping in its crystal. Just what the _frag_ was going on?!

Unfortunately, there was no time to figure that out at the moment, nor for him to work out where he was. Jazz picked the direction with the least blasts and ran like Unicron was on his aft, fear an icy lance prodding at his spark. Smoke and ash choked his vents and burned in his throat. The bombs came like rain, pouring down from the black above. Hell chased him and was gaining fast. Flames in molten orange and red, edging bright magenta as they burned so hot the metal of the ground began to glow and soften.

Jazz changed direction again, vaulting over debris and wreckage, scrambling up tumbled walls, and slip-sliding down the other sides of the mounds. He tried not to notice the greyed forms, tried not to hear the thin cries or desperate screams of the trapped and dying. They couldn’t be saved, and Jazz wanted to _live_. It’s all he had left, that sheer _will_ to survive. Frag the terror. Frag the confusion. Frag everything but surviving. Survival wasn’t to be had on the surface, however, so down was where he needed to go. Ahead was exactly what he was after, but it took precious seconds Jazz didn’t have to pry up the access grate. One level down into a service tunnel wasn’t going to do slag for him either with as hot as the streets were. He transformed and tore away from the noise of the explosions, but the vibrations chased him, rattling up through his tires until he found a hatch that would take him lower. Then lower. Then lower still.

Jazz shivered in the dark despite the swelling warmth and prayed to a god he didn’t really believe in. Or rather, didn’t believe would ever help him or Cybertron. He’d always prided himself on being brave, facing the worst head-on with a grin and snappy one-liner, but there were no more jokes to be told. No enemy to goad. No adversary to harangue. He was alone and afraid, and his lips moved in that silent prayer.

_Please let me be deep enough. Please let me be far enough. Please don’t let my fluids boil in my lines. Please don’t let my spark crystal crack. Please let me be deep enough…_

As time wore on, and Jazz survived despite the warnings that he was overheated , other insidious thoughts crept in. Had he trapped himself here forever? How long should he wait to try to leave? What if he left too soon? What if he got out only to be captured by Decepticons? What if he just stayed? What if he didn’t leave? What if he had already sat there, lost in the hot dark, for too long? Was he to become one of those moaning, shuffling things that stopped him from going even one more level deeper?

That was a haunting notion, and Jazz shivered, snapping awake from a recharge he didn’t recall falling into.

Slag all of it, he wasn’t giving up now, damnit! He dragged himself to his feet, picked a direction, and started moving.

Jazz was starving, literally, by the time he reached the surface. He had lost track of the passage of time, but it had to have been weeks. Crawling out of the grate and into the middle of an abandoned street gave him the perfect view of what had once been a city. It looked like melted wax. Like hundreds of taper candles had been left out in the sun during a summer heatwave. Everything was coated in ash and char. The air reeked of death and fire.

A sound behind him startled Jazz, but instincts and long ages at war served him well. He spun and caught the mech, tossing the glitch easily.

“Blood’s mine,” the mech snarled as he climbed to his feet. “Come on. Even make it painless if you don’t fight.”

Jazz’s optics narrowed behind his visor, his tanks giving a painful twist as he scented blood on the air. It was nothing. A tiny scratch where his claw had raked a line, but it was _energon_. “Think ya’re underestimatin’ how hungry I am, my mech. But come an’ take it if ya think ya can.”

The mech launched, knife nothing but a sharp bit of metal, but it was aimed at Jazz’s neck. Jazz let him get in good and close, then dipped and came up, leading with his elbow. He smashed the mech’s chin back, free hand catching the wrist to block the knife. A simple turn and shift of his weight, and the mech was thrown over Jazz’s shoulder to crash to the ground in front of him. He stepped forward, turned, and came down hard with his knees in the middle of the mech’s chest plating. A pained cry escaped his attacker, and Jazz made quick work of disarming him.

A fast glance around showed that they were either alone, or everyone else was smart enough to stay out of sight. Jazz spotted a building, weak and crumbling, but that was better than what he planned taking place in the middle of the street.

“Get off me! Fragger!” The mech struggled, but a well-placed punch glitched his motor relay. It wouldn’t last long, but hopefully long enough.

Jazz stood, grabbed the mech by the arm and started dragging him. He shoved away the guilt that bubbled up. It was kill or be killed, and Jazz was going to live. “Gonna make this painless for ya, even though I know that ya woulda just hurt me for the fun of it.”

“No!” the mech yelped, but he was a ragdoll and incapable of escaping Jazz as he was towed into the decrepit building.

“Sorry, mech,” Jazz said with genuine regret. “But it’s your blood, or I go Empty, and slag that.” Jazz ignored -as all Bleeders did- that choosing to consume the blood of a mech wasn’t all that far removed from being an Empty. Just that those poor sparks didn’t think or choose. They just ate. They tore plating with teeth and clawed fingers, their prey screaming as they died. “Be still,” Jazz said, his voice as soft as any seducing vampire’s. “Be like a kiss,” he added, voice just a shade too rough to be called a purr.

The mech whimpered as Jazz leaned over him and turned his face to the side to expose his main energon line. Dracula would be proud, Jazz thought, then worried a little for his sanity. Still, hunger trumped morality and morbid humor, and he dipped down, eye teeth puncturing the line easily enough. The mech whimpered, a thin, high sound of terror, but Jazz found it easy to play the part of a monster as sweet energon, purified like no other, pulsed over his tongue and down his throat with each frantic beat of the mech’s fuel pump. When the pressure failed, Jazz sucked the last bit that he could out of the two small holes, then sat back.

The mech was unconscious, and it was easy to pry open his chest plating. The laser core retracted when he found the manual catch, then the crystal too. Jazz looked down at the faintly pulsing spark and sighed as he lifted the makeshift blade. It wasn’t like he’d never killed up close and personal before, and this was more mercy than the mech deserved, but it still rankled. _This_ is what Jazz had become? A Bleeder and murderer? Still, it was better than just leaving the mech to suffer until his spark faded off. There was a chance he could online –and that would be agonizing as well as terrifying- or he might go Empty himself, and Jazz didn’t think his conscience could take that.

He dropped the blade into the spark, jerking his own hands back so the last flash of energy wouldn’t blow any of his own circuits. Light flared, bright and blue-white, then it all went dark, and the mech’s frame greyed.

_Shushussss_

Jazz reached for the blade, but before his hands could close on it, everything went a different, familiar, much brighter white.

~ | ~

Jazz was still in the middle of swinging to defend himself when he ‘landed’, and the back of his fist smacked the ground hard enough to rattle up his whole arm. He ignored the pain, rolled, and launched to his feet, audials ringing from the thunderous roar of the crowd. He reeled back from the press of mechs, optics taking it all in at a glance.

A city again, bright with sunlight instead of fire. Daylight reflected off buildings that were scored and aged. They showed clear signs of neglect and war, though it looked like some effort had been put into cleaning up the sides that faced the street ahead of him. Mechs leaned out the windows, arms waving and voices raised in boisterous cheering. Jazz frowned at the banners strung along the facades and over the street, purple and silver. Just like the streamers some of the window mechs held. Then he noticed that a great many of the mechs cheering on the ground in front of him were waving little flags with the Decepticon symbol on them. This was _not_ good. He shrank back, all too aware of the red emblem on his chest still, only to fetch up against some _one_.

“Sorry about that,” the mech said even as Jazz tipped his helm up and around to look. “Can you even see anything from down- What…?” He paused, optics on Jazz’s Autobot insignia and a frown forming under the rim of his helm the way storm clouds gathered on a horizon.

Jazz didn’t wait for the mech to say anything more. He snapped his fist up, ruthlessly aiming right for the vocalizer. The mech silently crumpled to the ground in pain, hands clutching at his throat, and Jazz sprinted down the alley.

He ran, and he kept running. He ran for weeks. He ran until the terror of the last world faded into a dogged determination and unending exhaustion. He hid in holes and slums, thick grease smeared over his chest, because like frag was he giving up his insignia. A stupid choice, he was sure, but it felt like a betrayal. All those mechs- all those _friends_ it represented. He couldn’t give it up. So Jazz ran, and he stole energon when and where he could. He sucked spike when he couldn’t steal, and he kept moving. Always moving, because the word was out about a lone Autobot terrorist. The mech Jazz had punched had done a tell-all about the vicious attack he’d suffered right there at the Grand Celebration Parade. Megatron himself was furious, his face twisted as he raged for citizens of Cybertron to stand together and bring the terrorist in. Jazz imagined it didn’t look good for old Megatron to have any Autobots still roaming around frightening the populace by trying to survive. He sighed and sank deeper into the gutters.

Down, down into the dark, hidden from even the worst of the gutter’s trash, Jazz curled into a miserable ball of hunger and strut-deep exhaustion. It had been ages since he’d been able to just _rest_ for a little. He was numb, and it was hot here, which brought up bad memories. Maybe he should have let the mech alert them? Sure there would be torture and beatings and whatnot, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being caught. He could _rest_ a little while.

Jazz snorted softly and shook his helm. Right. Like he’d rest in a cell? No, he’d spend the entire time trying to escape and thinking of how to escape, then still end up doing nothing but running, but this time they’d have a bead on him and he would have to run harder. Go even where the-

Wait.

Where were the turborats? Usually when Jazz crawled into a space like this to attempt a quick nap he could hear them skittering around. It was something he had grown used to and used as an early warning system that someone was coming. If the rats had hunkered down, then Jazz was in trouble. He stalled his respiration and kept his optics shut so the light wouldn’t be seen. With any luck, whoever it was would pass right-

~ | ~

Jazz trudged through the wasteland he had been deposited in this time. Rust-laden wind blew constantly under a brown mass of swirling, twisting, low-hanging clouds. The only light was in the bands of a toxic orange-red glow that hugged low to the ground, weighted and unmoving despite the winds. Jazz no longer tried to skirt it, and it spun in whorls around his knees. He cursed Primus, Unicron, and any other god he could remember from all around the galaxy. One by one, he dragged their names from the depths of memory to snarl and degrade them. When he ran out of gods, he started on mythical monsters, then moved onto Decepticons.

_Someone _out there was having a jolly good time of fragging with him, and for all Jazz knew, it was a Decepticon. He doubted reality again, as he had in the beginning, because _how_ could this be real? He wanted it all to just _stop_! He was _tired_ of it. Furious. Anger boiled under his spark at all times. It was anger that kept him moving now. It fueled his every stumbling, shuffling step forward. That and the horror of what would find him if he stopped moving.__

__They could smell energon keenly. Jazz remembered that from what Perceptor had told him. Chatty, cheerful, ridiculously brave Perceptor…_ _

___”Empties are terribly fascinating! Did you know that they are so highly tuned to the scent of energon that they can detect it even if one has no open wounds? I am certain that the only thing that held them to the lower regions were their inability to tolerate much light at all. Well, that and perhaps their incredible lack of coordination. I once escaped a pack by simply climbing up a ladder.”_ _ _

__Jazz had no ladder. No bolt hole. No energon. He had nothing but the hollow, rusted, dusty remains of Cybertron and the monsters that shuffled after him. Time lost all meaning. It wasn’t like he could stop and recharge for long. One time waking to the hungry moans and shuffling, off-rhythm step of a dozen Empties was more than enough. That was back when he had first arrived, when he still had some energy himself. Now he didn’t dare stop, not even to just sit down for a few minutes. He knew he wouldn’t get back up. So Jazz had learned to walk even as he dropped into something like a dream state. Either that or he really was about to become and Empty himself. Hunger had long since moved from pain to numbness. One day he wouldn’t care._ _

__Fear jolted through Jazz and woke him from his daze. He blinked, shook his helm, and clenched his fists._ _

__No. He wasn’t going to give in. There had to be some energon here. It was somewhere. It _had_ to be._ _

__Jazz frown at the shadows as he walked forward, optics sweeping the walls to either side of him, then he stopped for the first time in ages. “Frag.” The word emerged as a static-laced sigh, but he couldn’t have meant it more emphatically. He had walked into a dead end. The crumbly, powdery once-walls weren’t something he could climb either, not as low on energy as he was. They were just high enough that he would risk too much injury if something gave too. Worse still, he could hear the moans. They were coming._ _

___Shushusshh_ _ _

__Jazz gasped at the sound, body tense. “Somewhere with energon, you glitch,” he snarled in a voice that was more static than not._ _

__Then white light consumed him._ _


	4. Chapter 4

Jazz sighed as he pushed himself up off the ground and took in his new surroundings. Clearly, the universe hated him. Then again, this looked like a city, and he could hear the sounds of _living_ mechs driving and honking and calling to one another.

Fragging alleys though. Why was it always some narrow, dark alleyway?

 _And where the frag am I **this** slagging time?_ Jazz thought as he edged out to the mouth of the alley. Big avenue. Check. Lots of mechs. Check. Lights, clean-ish streets, decently kempt buildings. Check, check, check. He wasn’t able to guess for sure which city he was in, but it was probably sometime before the war started if the ease of the mechs walking to and fro was any indication.

Jazz slumped against the wall and heaved a weary sigh. He was still numb and drained from hunger -though more awake now- so that needed to be his first priority. A quick glance down told him there was no slagging way he was going to be able to creep into a store, let alone a bar. He sighed again and straightened. Pits, he was damn wobbly. Well, there was always dumpster diving, and in such a lively city, there would be a bar or club near enough.

Very near, it turned out. Jazz shuffled around the bend in a connecting alley, and blinked at the sight before him. He had found his dumpster behind what sounded like a club, but it already had a mech in it.

A mech with _damn_ familiar wings. “Well, I suppose I could eat ya,” Jazz said, wincing at how his voice rasped. It rather ruined the lackadaisical effect he was going for. 

There was a _thonk-clang_ , and _Starscream_ flailed his very startled way out of the dumpster. Wide red optics searched for and found Jazz, but there was not so much as a flicker of recognition. “Glitch!” the Seeker spat. Those ruby optics narrowed. “If you’re planning to rob me, I have nothing.”

“Blood in your lines,” Jazz replied, but he waved a hand at the shocked, then disgusted expression. That was a last resort, and he needed to avoid being a monster himself in this world if he could. “Anything in there to eat? I’m starved,” he said as he strode fearlessly toward the dumpster. His voice was still off, but hopefully the act was a good one. Jazz was out of practice. Rusty, he thought, and in more ways than one.

“You look it,” Starscream said with feeling, his gaze raking Jazz. “Primus. Did you _roll_ through the gutter to get here?” He took a step back, then another, field clamped tight, but expression showing his wariness.

“Nah. Hadda employ some extreme measures ta escape some Empties.”

Red optics went round, and Starscream scurried away a few more steps. “Did you get bitten?”

“What? No. That’s not-” Jazz laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Nah. No bites, my mech.” He hopped up and leaned over the edge of the dumpster so he could reach into the trash. It was a calculated risk to give his back to Starscream, but this one looked and behaved younger. The Screamer Jazz knew would _never_ have given ground without a weapon trained on him and a whole lot more waspish snark.

“Scratches?”

“Plenty, but not from Empties,” Jazz replied as he dug through the garbage.

“You didn’t lead them here did you?” Starscream asked, and Jazz glanced up to see him looking around, wings tucked in, his hands clasped and everything. Something dark roiled in him. This Starscream would be so easy to kill. _Blood in your lines._ And half again as tall as Jazz. Fresh meal, just waiting to be-

Jazz shook it off and forced his gaze back into the dumpster. “They can’t follow the way I came,” he answered. Primus, please. “Ah!” Jazz shoved a mess of sticky wrappers and some broken glass out of the way, then wriggled back and dropped to the ground. In his hands was a veritable smorgasbord of discarded, but perfectly good treats. He grinned as he divided them in half and held out one hand toward the Seeker. If he wasn’t going to eat Starscream -which he wasn’t- then he might as well see what use he could make of him.

“What?”

“Well, I’m not that nice,” Jazz said. “I gave you the one with the piece of glass you have to pluck out before you eat it.” He beamed and rocked back on his heels, pushing amusement into his field. “Go on. Sucks slag ta be hungry, and ain’t nothin’ wrong with these.”

“Other than the fact that they were pulled from the garbage,” Starscream grumbled, though he inched forward and accepted the goodies before dancing back a few steps again. “I’m not ‘facing you for these.”

Jazz blinked at that. Interfacing was the farthest thing from his mind. “Wasn’t expectin’ ya to.” He shook his helm, then inspected a goodie of his own to be sure there was no glass in them. That’d rattle around in his tanks and drive him nuts. “So what’s your story?” he asked, then popped the treat into his mouth. Oh, _Primus_! It was _so good_! Jazz let himself sag as the sweet energon melted in his mouth. When he recovered enough to speak, he asked, “Why’s a pretty winglet like you diggin’ in the trash for a snack?”

Starscream gave him a look that seemed torn between amusement, pity, and annoyance. “Is this what gutter rats do? Share their sob stories?”

Jazz grinned at the very Starscream tone, then shrugged. “I shared my dinner with ya.”

Starscream rolled his optics, but picked the piece of glass out and tossed it aside before gingerly pushing the treat into his mouth. They were both quiet as they ate, and Jazz figured he wasn’t going to get an answer. He also thought that he should climb back into the trash and look for more energon. His systems were going insane from the sudden influx of energy, but goodies weren’t exactly nutritious, and that energy wouldn’t last him more than a couple hours at best. Probably less given how depleted he was.

“My explorations partner died on an alien planet,” Starscream said just as Jazz moved to climb in.

The haste with which the words were spoken gave him pause, and Jazz said, “Sorry ta hear that.”

Starscream snorted. “Like you care.”

With a shrug Jazz crawled back into the dumpster and began digging around. “Know what it’s like ta lose a good friend. Maybe don’t know yours, but that still sucks slag.” Actually, Skyfire had been a really good spark, and Jazz did miss him.

“Yeah, well…” Starscream edged closer to Jazz, optics sweeping around in the way an inexperienced lookout’s would. “Academy blamed me. Said I murdered him.” A snort accompanied grime-streaked wings lifting. “Brutal Vosian. Never mind I was raised in the Towers,” he grumbled.

Jazz lifted his helm. “Towers?” That was new information about Starscream. “No goin’ home, huh?”

Red optics paled, though Starscream tried to hide the reaction behind an angry squint. “Obviously.”

Jazz tipped his helm at the bitterness in that one word. _That_ had sounded like the Starscream he knew. But if this was freshly expelled Starscream, was it too late? This Starscream didn’t know Jazz. This Starscream had never been to war. His fingers closed around a bottle, and he lifted it. The high grade was eyed, then swigged, then the bottle held out to the Seeker. Starscream scowled at him, but took it.

“So,” Jazz said as Starscream swallowed and winced. He crossed his arms on the rim of the dumpster and tipped his helm a bit to the side. “Crazy, fragged up world, right? Ya’re the first decent mech I’ve tripped over in a while. Whaddaya say ta partnerin’ up an’ seein’ if we fare any better as a team instead of solo?”

Starscream took another drink, then passed the bottle back to Jazz. “Not ‘facing you,” he said on a cough.

“That your ‘rather die than’ line?” Jazz asked, curious and interested as he took the bottle. He certainly had no lines left, and if he was going to try living with another mech for a bit, then he’d better rebuild a few of his own.

“My…?” Starscream scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t be anyone’s whore.”

Jazz lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture, the bottle hanging from between his finger and thumb. “Mech, I ain’t lookin’ ta pimp ya or use ya. I’m talkin’ a partnership for survival, and if sellin’ is a line o’ yours ya won’t cross, then that’s fine. I just needa know.”

“You’re assuming I would be willing to… partner up with you.” Sulky, Jazz thought and took another swig from the bottle. “Why should I trust you?”

Jazz leaned on the edge of the dumpster to help steady him as he drank more of the rather awful high grade and tried not to make a face. There was another mouthful in the bottom of the bottle and he offered it to Starscream. Mech clearly wasn’t used to starving yet, because he waved Jazz off. The high grade was drained, and Jazz went back to looking for more energon of any kind. “I’m lookin’ for a mech ta watch my back so I can recharge a while. Watch mine. I’ll watch yours.” He shoved trash aside and frowned at a half-eaten goodie, but picked it up anyway. Fuel was fuel. “Science academy? Must be smart. I got the street smarts. Make a good team an’ maybe drag ourselves up from this mess a bit. Want it?” he asked and held out the treat.

Starscream’s nose wrinkled right up at the offered treat. “No. Thank you.”

“Such manners,” Jazz said and gave a snicker, his mind rushing from thought to thought. “So?” He pushed the treat into his mouth and swallowed without trying to taste it, his gaze locked on the Seeker’s. Because what if this was Starscream’s turning point? What if digging alone in the trash just to survive was what drove him into Megatron’s camp? What if the two of them really did team up? What if Jazz took the chance, trusted the mech to watch over him in his recharge, and they were able to put their processors together? Just what could they accomplish? Could they manage more than barely surviving? Could he stop the fragging war from happening and all his friends dying?

Red optics stared back at Jazz, shrewd and calculating. “It is rather difficult to find someone willing to put up with me,” Starscream said slowly.

“I’m pretty laid back. Was a turn o’ bad luck that landed me back here after scrapin’ my way outta the gutters before.”

Starscream glanced around, then back to Jazz. “I will destroy you if you try to hurt me.”

Jazz held up his hands. “Mech, I got enough enemies in this world. Be frellin’ nice ta have a friend for a change.”

The Seeker huffed, but it didn’t cover the sadness that washed over his face and made his wings droop before he could catch himself. “Fine. I… have a place. It’s a closet really. Some maintenance… thing.” Starscream flicked a hand off to the side. “I can get the door to lock though, so if you are serious…” He trailed off again, optics lifting from where they had dropped to the ground to look at Jazz.

Primus, he really was just a kid. Try as he might, Starscream couldn’t mask the open vulnerability. “I’m serious,” Jazz said, spark pulsing harder. Part of it had to be excitement to have a safe spot to recharge in, but he knew most of it was the almost-foreign urge to protect a life that needed it, and he scrambled after that emotion and clutched it tight. “Let’s finish checkin’ this thing out, then we’ll skedaddle for the night, yeah?”

“Alright.” Starscream dared step closer, and by the time they were done digging, they had a handful of goodies and half a bottle of more awful, but consumable, high grade.

~

It really was just a closet, and Jazz, despite being exhausted, had to force himself to cycle down. It was a show of trust, blatant and unmistakable to a mech like Starscream. At least, the old Starscream. This younger version might get it too, though, Jazz thought. When he woke, Starscream was still there, a huddle of pale wings in the near blackness of the tiny space. He was eyeing Jazz in silence even as Jazz sat himself back up to lean against the wall. The high grade was untouched, and he grinned and offered the bottle to the Seeker first.

“It’s awful,” Starscream whispered, but then he drank precisely half before handing the bottle back to Jazz.

“Yeah, but it’ll keep us moving,” Jazz replied and drained the rest. “Grab some recharge. If I hear anything, I’ll wake ya.”

“We should be safe enough,” Starscream said, then wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned sideways against the wall.

It had to be incredibly uncomfortable to tuck his wing down and back like that, but Jazz didn’t say anything. The Seeker had made it very obvious he wasn’t willing to come into contact with Jazz, and Jazz wanted his trust. He was weary right down to his struts, and wanted to recharge more despite knowing he’d gotten a good six hours in. The Seeker needed a turn though, and they both needed to be rested before heading back out to look for more energon later.

 _What are ya gettin’ yourself inta this time around, Jazzy?_ , he thought and stared at the shape of the door in front of him.

~ | ~

“What is that?” Starscream asked as he finished off the box of goodies Jazz had found them.

“My flute. Busted,” Jazz replied with a sigh. “Used ta be I’d play it for tips.” Not that anyone with the creds to spare would come close to either of them. They were filthy, and the little glow orb Starscream had found a few days past only seemed to highlight that fact. Their closet was a grubby, rusting, forgotten hole in the basement of a decrepit building. A few floors above them, mechs doing only a little better in life slogged through their days.

“Let me see it,” Starscream said and stuck out his hand.

Jazz passed it over with a shrug. “Can’t be repaired. I keep it cuz I’m sentimental.” Which was only the truth. That was his very first flute, and he had kept it all through his career, then the war, then after it despite the fact that it would never work again.

“Hm.” Starscream turned it over in his hands and found the release to the circuit board. “Couldn’t just replace this mess?”

“Not that easy, and that ain’t all that’s wrong with it.”

“What happened?” Starscream asked and looked up to meet Jazz’s gaze. “This doesn’t look like normal damage for a musical instrument.”

Jazz huffed a slight laugh. “Not even close. Had ta fend off a mech that got a bit handsy. Flute was the only thing I had close enough ta use as a weapon.”

Starscream’s optics went round. “You shorted this out using it on a mech?”

“Unfortunately,” Jazz replied. He expected Starscream to hand the flute back, but the Seeker snorted a slight laugh and shook his helm, then went back to his inspection. Jazz watched him and noted the intelligence. They had always known Starscream was smart. Crazy, but certainly clever.

The next night when they went out looking for fuel, Jazz picked up a few broken items he thought the Seeker might be able to repair. Starscream gave him an odd look, but Jazz just grinned and began collecting tools.

“Been lucky so far,” Jazz said as he stacked the items against the wall in their tiny room. “I’m fine with sellin’ for fuel if we end up with me needin’ to, but if ya can get these workin’, we can pawn ‘em and buy energon instead of livin’ off treats and high grade.”

Starscream scowled and began to rearrange the bits and bobs as Jazz sat back and pulled out the high grade he had found. “I don’t want you selling yourself,” the Seeker said softly.

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t done before,” Jazz said, and dared to reach out and brush a light touch to Starscream’s shoulder. An offer of comfort and nothing more. “I was a buymech before I was anything else, Star. I’m in it ta stay alive. Been through too much ta give up now.”

Starscream pulled away, his face pinched and wings arching up on his back.

“Ya’re ashamed of it?” Jazz asked, remembering the Seeker had said he was raised in the Towers.

“No.” Blunt, single syllable.

Jazz cocked his helm to the side. “Ain’t never gonna force ya ta do it. Don’t needa worry on that account. It’s just somethin’ I can do if our straits get dire enough.”

“You can’t do something like that for my sake,” Starscream replied, his voice soft. “I won’t let you be used like that. Not for me.”

Jazz blinked, his spark giving a harder thump. What had this mech been through to sound like _that_? Though, he thought he could take a guess. He wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t ask either. Starscream had closed himself off, his field clamped tight, and if that wasn’t a mech moving and arranging things for something to do, Jazz was a blue-nosed gopher.

“Think ya can fix any of this stuff?” he asked, changing the subject. It was obvious and graceless, but sometimes that was the proof a mech needed that he wasn’t going to be pressed. “Won’t get us much, but maybe if we can manage ta afford enough for a wash, we could attempt actual jobs.”

Starscream nodded, hands busy, but his wings slowly sank back down to a more common resting position. “This is a good idea. I hadn’t thought about repairing things to sell.”

“Bet there’s lots we can find,” Jazz said and smiled as he reached out to pick up what looked like a dirty, but otherwise fine lamp. “Not much space ta work in here, but maybe I can scout us a spot ta store things.” And maybe he could acquire some cleaning cloths too. The better the shape, the more luck he’d have with a pawn shop. “Can try helpin’ ya too. I can be a bit handy now and then.”

Starscream gave Jazz a slight smile, then began pulling apart the small motor he had been fiddling with. “Oh really?”

“Could be of more use, but I figure we oughta stick ta the legal stuff for now.” Jazz grinned at the startled look he was given. “Pretty handy at hackin’ locks ‘n’ such.” He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers at Starscream. “I’d hate ta take from the mechs we could reach lookin’ the way we do though, so if we decide ta go that route, figure it can be after we get a bit of a wash.”

Jazz was eyed for a long moment, then Starscream snorted and turned back to his work. “You mean that don’t you?”

“Rob the rich ta feed the poor,” Jazz chirped and began poking at the lamp. “We’re the poor too, so I wouldn’t feel terrible about feedin’ us with some rich mech’s stash.”

Starscream made a noncommittal noise, and for a while the only sounds were those of clicks and clanks as they both took apart their projects. “I think,” the Seeker finally said, “that if we resort to thieving, then we should do one large job, and hunker down, though I’m not sold on the idea at all yet.”

“Options, my mech,” Jazz replied. “All options. I’d rather do it honest myself, if I could. Get cleaned up, get an instrument, play ta entertain. Been there, done that. How I dragged myself up before, but I was alone then.” He paused and then added, “Harder alone.”

“Lonely,” Starscream murmured so quietly even Jazz barely heard him.

“Team now,” Jazz said with a grin. “Let’s keep an optic out for musical type things. I can sing and dance, and Pits! I could even record music and sell it if we got the right chance.”

“Were you published before?” Starscream asked. He was already piecing the motor back together, and Jazz watched in fascination. The mech was really good.

“No,” Jazz lied, but then his music didn’t exist here anyway. “Never quite got past playin’ live. Thought that would be enough.”

“Tch.”

“Hey!”

“Well, that was stupid,” Starscream said, then flashed Jazz a grin. The brat.

Jazz chuckled. “We’ll take every opportunity this time. Deal?”

“Except selling yourself.”

“Ain’t promisin’ that,” Jazz said firmly. “I ain’t gonna starve, and I ain’t gonna let you.” He saw the protest rising, and held up a hand. “I will promise that’ll be at the very bottom of the list and only if we’re really that desperate.” The Seeker looked dissatisfied, but he nodded, and Jazz reached out again. This time the touch was allowed, and he gave Starscream’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s not borrow trouble. We’re doin’ ok right now. We stick t’gether, watch each other’s back, and we’ll make it.”

“You sound so sure,” Starscream said, and Jazz’s spark ached at how young and hopeless the mech looked.

Jazz smiled, a soft, comforting smile, and said, “I am. Bad luck sucks slag, but I did this before, and I’ll do it again. Drag ya up with me too, cuz ya been good ta me.”

“I’m not helpless,” Starscream said, and his lower lip poked out in a pout.

Jazz snickered and shook his helm. No. Starscream was anything but helpless, but Jazz couldn’t tell him how he knew that. Plus, much of the crazy Decepticon Starscream was absent in this mech. He was almost- no, he _was_ a different person, and Jazz really didn’t want to see him become that Decepticon. “I know ya ain’t. I’m not that altruistic.”

Starscream gave a soft huff of laughter at that, then began restacking the bits and pieces. “I’m tired. Will you take first watch?”

“Yeah,” Jazz said and put the lamp and its innards over against the wall with their other finds. “Get some rest, Star.”

The orb was covered, and in the darkness, Jazz could only hear at first. He was surprised by the light touch against his hip.

“Is this ok?” Starscream whispered. “I really want to lie down to recharge.”

Jazz gently rested his hand on the Seeker’s shoulder, then gave him a bit of a pat. Starscream must be curled up on his side, wings toward the door. It was the top of his helm against Jazz’s hip. “This is fine. You rest. We’re good.”

Starscream murmured something that sounded like ‘thank you’, but his systems quickly cycled down, leaving Jazz to guard the dark and chase his thoughts. He felt that familiar urge to protect swell up under his spark and rested his helm back against the wall.

 _Ok. In it ta win it, Jazz. Game plan time._ One that would really bring them both up out of the gutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **REMINDER!** \- Please do not leave spoilery comments, ESPECIALLY to other readers. I WILL delete them. Unfortunately if you spoiler another reader by answering their comment FOR me, they'll get the alert and you've ruined part of their enjoyment. Please don't do that. Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

Jazz’s intention to keep things honest died quickly. As promised, he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity, and when one presented itself in the form of a lost mech that had no business being in the gutters, Jazz took it. He jumped the lost mech from the shadows before anyone else could, then woke him to lead him back out to the safer streets. The mech was grateful, which left Jazz feeling incredibly guilty for knocking him out in the first place, but he’d had a few hundred creds on chips in his subspace, spare energon, and various other items. The chips and energon were taken, the other -clearly personal- things were left alone. Jazz woke the mech before the other vultures got too close, then led him back out of the maze of dim alleys and close, dirty streets, feeling a bit less guilty each time he caught the disgusted looks and wrinkled nose.

“Thank you,” the mech said when they spotted the main avenue.

“No problem. Don’t go wanderin’ down here though,” Jazz said, already backing away. The mech’s hand was heading toward his subspace, and they were only seconds away from the theft being discovered if he stuck around. Bad for at least two reasons. The mech would make a fuss and maybe be stupid enough to try to chase Jazz down, and the other gutter rats would _know_ that Jazz rolled the mech and come after him. “Gutters eat a shiny thing like you alive.”

“I should-” the mech started to say, but Jazz slipped back into the shadows.

“Back ta the light, pretty. Go on.”

The mech hesitated, bit his lip, but he had lost sight of Jazz. Jazz knew by the frown and the way the mech’s optics darted from shadow to shadow. He finally turned and hurried away, and Jazz let himself exhale and take a moment before turning away and rushing off himself. He had left Starscream alone while looking for fuel, and that didn’t sit well.

“Jazz!” Starscream gasped, and clutched at his shoulders. Red optics were pale pink around the edges, and Jazz felt really guilty as he stepped closer to give the Seeker a quick hug. “I looked up and you were gone,” he hissed.

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Jazz eased himself back and tugged at Starscream to get him moving. There were too many optics on them, and the shadows were listening. “Come on.”

“I’ve only found one-”

“Come on,” Jazz repeated, more firmly and he tightened his grip on the Seeker’s arm.

Starscream blinked, but let himself be towed along. Jazz dragged them on a circuitous route to a beat to slag motel, then slipped in through a back door. The lighting was dim and orange, and as they walked, he pushed one of the cred chips into Starscream’s hand. “Ya look a sight better than me. Drag me up ta the desk and tell the mech ya want a room for the night and a couple hours access ta the rack.”

“Where did you get-” Starscream started only to cut himself off.

“Opportunity. He’s fine. Just unknowingly paid for a guide back out ta the city where he’d be safe.”

Starscream sighed, but then flicked his wings back, grabbed Jazz by the wrist and hauled him up to the desk. “I want a room and access to your washroom.”

They were eyed, and Jazz was sneered at. “Yeah, I’d wanna wash that first too,” the mech said. “Thirty creds for both.” He dug under the desk and pulled out two actual metal keys. “Room.” One was held up. “Racks,” he said showing the other key. “Need this one back when ya’re done. Take more than two hours, and I’ll charge ya for it.” He gave Jazz another long look. “Pits, make it thirty-five, and I’ll just give ya the four hours.”

Starscream rolled his optics. “Two hours will do.” He held out the cred chip, which only had thirty-nine creds anyway, then took it and the keys. “Where do we go?”

The mech pointed. “Racks right down there on the left. Room’s number three-oh-four. Stairs at the end of that hall. Third floor. Time’s runnin’, so better get ta the racks first.”

Starscream gave the mech an annoyed look, but then yanked Jazz along down the hall. Jazz, for his part stumbled along, unprotestingly, then snickered once the washroom door was shut behind them. “Done good.”

“Yes, I’m a fine actor.” Starscream set the keys down and went straight for the solvent controls.

The pressure was weak, the solvent only lukewarm, but it was the best shower Jazz had had in longer than he cared to think about. The brush in the room was raggedy and old, but it still served, and Jazz grabbed it before Starscream could with a laugh.

“Turn around,” Jazz said and motioned with the brush. “Lemme get your back, then you can get mine.” As he scrubbed at Starscream’s wings, black grime came loose from them both, and the grease Jazz had smeared over his chest began to break up and wash away.

“What’s that?” Starscream asked, his finger poking at Jazz’s Autobot symbol as he turned to claim the brush. “Were you some sort of security mech?”

“One of my jobs,” Jazz answered. The Seeker’s helm tipped, but he didn’t press. Jazz turned so his back could be scrubbed and looked down at the emblem. “I should probably use some of our windfall and paint over it.”

“Could just remove it,” Starscream suggested as he scoured Jazz’s back.

Black suds swirled around Jazz’s feet before slipping down the drain. “No. It’s important.”

“Like the flute?” Starscream stopped scrubbing and tugged Jazz back under the spray. “I swear, it’s like you swam in filth.”

Jazz laughed as he was pushed forward again, and Starscream got back to scrubbing. “Ya wouldn’t believe the half of it.”

“Tch.” Though the Seeker didn’t argue.

Unsurprisingly, they did end up taking the whole two hours, and Jazz stood dripping in the hall, pretending to stare off into space as Starscream returned the rack’s key to the desk mech. The room was slag, but it was better than their closet. It had a berth, for one, and while it was barely big enough for Starscream, it was still better than a floor.

Starscream pulled out the nearly empty bottle of high grade he had found and offered it to Jazz before he sat on the edge of the berth.

Jazz was careful to only drink his half, then passed the bottle back and sat down as well. “Frag me, but it feels nice to be clean.”

“It does,” Starscream agreed, then coughed as the high grade burned its way down.

Jazz cast the Seeker a grin, then laid back across the berth, his feet still on the floor. “Clean opens up more options.”

“Such as?” Starscream asked, his tone holding a warning, and Jazz chuckled.

“Not that. I promised that was at the bottom of the list, and there it remains.” Jazz stretched his arms over his head and then relaxed with a sigh. “Dancin’. If I could get a job dancin’ again, then we’d have some creds and energon every night.”

“You mean that sort of dancing mechs pay to see and be revved up by,” Starscream said.

Jazz pushed himself back up to sit, and drew his knee up onto the berth so he could face the Seeker. “Sweetspark. ‘Facin’ sells. I won’t let ‘em touch me, but whatever this hang-up of yours is, ya needa get past it some. I’m talkin’ a legit job for me. Somethin’ I’m good at and familiar with.”

Starscream scowled. “It’s not a hang-up. I’ve seen the way mechs behave when they think they’ve bought and paid for the use of another.” He gnawed his lip for a moment, and the look he gave Jazz nearly melted his spark. “I don’t want you treated that way. I know you’ve said that I’ve been good to you, but you’ve been good to me too. You don’t even seem to see that I’m a Seeker.”

Primus, but it had been a _long_ war. Jazz shook his helm, then slid off the berth with a fluid step and half turn. “I can see ya,” he said, and let his hips sway to the left before twisting forward, then back, then over to the right. “More importantly, I see the mech that guards my recharge. I see the mech that can fix tidbits of broken and discarded slag.” He rolled his pelvis and step-turn-stepped, arms lifting over his helm. “I see my partner in getting our afts outta that closet that he offered me shelter in, and up ta a real place ta live again.” Jazz danced to the rhythm of his own pulsing spark and fought off the grin at Starscream’s transfixed look.

“They won’t touch you?” Starscream asked in a whisper. Red optics dragged themselves from Jazz’s body to his visor. “I don’t want you used like that. Not for me.”

Jazz slid closer, the movements easier, the gliding steps coming back to him as he danced. “They ain’t allowed ta touch a dancer.” Not entirely true, but Jazz could make sure of it, or lie well enough if that was how a high roller wanted to play in the VIP room. Starscream didn’t need to know that, and Jazz would protect him from it if he could.

Starscream bit his lip, then nodded, optics darker than usual.

Jazz moved in so that his hips wound in slow circles over one of the Seeker’s legs. “Hands beside your aft,” he said. “If it was a chair, I’d tell ya to hold onta it.” Starscream’s optics flickered, but he tucked his hands into fists and planted them on the berth a little behind his back. Jazz nodded approval, then slid forward to kneel over the Seeker’s lap, still moving, and certainly close enough to feel the heat blooming to life under the red plating.

He should stop this, Jazz realized, before they crossed a line, but then his optics met Starscream’s. That dark face glowed with heat, and his optics were deepest garnet. Hot air puffed in little gusts over Jazz’s face, and it was then that he realized just how close their mouths were. “This is what mechs pay for,” he said, and damn if his voice wasn’t a little huskier than it should be. “This fantasy. Not the fulfillment of it,” he added, and stepped back, making the motion abrupt and sudden to snap the tension.

“Oh.”

Jazz chuckled, and plopped himself back down beside Starscream. “Sorry, mech.” He rapped his knuckled against the outside of the Seeker’s thigh. “Guess I still got it. I didn’t mean ta turn it on ya like that.”

“No…” Starscream said slowly, then snickered a bit himself. “No, that… demonstration was very educational.”

Jazz laughed, but he couldn’t deny that he’d been just as caught in his own trap. That was a surprise and he would need to watch out for- No, frag holding back. He wasn’t going to live a life of restraint from friendship and affection. He never had, and this mech certainly didn’t deserve to be treated like the mark Jazz had first considered making him. “We might have a bit of an attraction.”

“What?” Starscream asked, field flaring in surprise.

“Well, I kinda wanted ta kiss ya there at the end, and that’s not how dancin’ works,” Jazz admitted. “No worries though.” He stood up. “Want me ta take first watch?”

Starscream glared at Jazz for a long moment, then asked, “What do you mean, no worries?”

“I ain’t gonna take advantage. I ain’t gonna push.” Jazz waved a hand at Starscream. “I didn’t even think that way ‘til just now when I realized I wanted ta close the distance.”

Starscream continued to stare, and Jazz could almost see the gears turning, but then he blinked, shrugged, and dragged himself the rest of the way onto the berth. “Alright. Turn the light out? I’m not used to trying to recharge in anything but darkness.”

Jazz arched an optic ridge under his visor, but he didn’t argue. Once the light was out, he sat with his back against the door. “Rest good.”

“Mmn…”

Jazz grinned and shook his helm at himself. Primus, it was good to feel clean though. Tomorrow, he’d job hunt. If he could seduce a prickly Seeker, then he shouldn’t have too much of an issue finding work. No wait. Paint, then the job hunt. Then he’d worry about how he _noticed_ how pretty Starscream was tonight.

~ | ~

They went to the park to celebrate Jazz’s recent employment. Starscream was getting looks, and for a moment Jazz considered leaving, but frag that. He was a Seeker, but not some monster. Those glitches could slag off. Jazz led them both to a bench overlooking a winding path through decorative sculptures and oddly angled short walls. There were no crystal gardens in lower Iacon, but whoever designed this one did a decent job of recreating the cozy intimacy of a romantic stroll along the paths.

“I’ve never been here,” Starscream said as he sat down.

“Must be different from what ya saw as a bitlet?” Jazz parked himself next to Starscream and pulled the fresh bottle of stolen high grade out.

Red optics went round. “Please tell me you didn’t get that from your new place of employment!”

Jazz laughed and shook his helm. “Nah. This one’s from that place I went this morning. Seedy,” he added with a curl of his lip. “Think the owner was runnin’ mechs on syk.”

“Primus,” Starscream whispered, then gave the bottle a critical glare. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

“One way to find out!” Jazz took a swig even as Starscream reached to stop him. His laugh was broken by a cough, and he held the bottle out to the Seeker. “Whoo! That’s rough goin’ down, but not laced.”

“How can you tell?” Starscream asked, peering down the neck of the bottle as if a visual assessment would help.

“I’ve had syk before. Not on purpose,” Jazz hurried to say. “Fragger thought to dope me and get what I was sellin’ for free, but I know the stuff.” Sadly, it was what killed the mech he had known as his creator. “I don’t do that. None of that stuff. Boostin’, syk, stims. All that slag will do is buy ya an escape from reality for a bit, but it makes reality worse in the long run.”

“I’ve never tried any of that,” Starscream said softly, then dared to take a sip of the high grade. “Oh Primus!” He coughed and shoved the bottle back at Jazz. “I’ve tasted cleanser better flavored than that!”

“Yeah. I grabbed the cheap stuff,” Jazz sighed and took another mouthful. It really was awful, and it burned all the way down his intake to his tanks before rolling itself into a more pleasant warmth. “My bad, but hey!” He nudged his arm against Starscream’s. “I got a job. Gonna shake this aft and tease them all inta givin’ me all their creds.”

Starscream stole the bottle and soldiered through a swig of his own. He winced, then gave his helm a hard shake. “Gods!” He took another drink, and Jazz laughed as the Seeker almost gagged. “Here. I think that’ll keep me for the night. Tell me more about how I’m going to be your kept mech and live a life of luxury.”

Jazz reclaimed the bottle, then capped it to save for later. Their windfall from a week and a half ago was stretching thin, and he was going to have to be sure to save enough of his tips each day for a wash. Clean was a requirement of his profession. “Well, I’m thinkin’ first things first, we’ll save up and get a place with an actual berth and washrack in it.”

Starscream gasped in theatrical shock, one hand flying up to cover his mouth. “A _washrack_?! In our _home_! You’ll spoil me beyond saving.”

“ _Then_ ,” Jazz said, “I’m thinkin’ we stock up a bit on energon. Just a few extra meals ta cover any lean days.”

“Lean days?” Starscream affected a disdainful sniff, his field alight with amusement. “Unacceptable. There will be no lean days.”

Jazz snickered and rocked to the side to bump Starscream’s arm with his own again. The Seeker grinned down at him, dark face open and happy, and Jazz threw caution to the wind and tipped his helm closer. He stopped short of a kiss, but it was clear he was willing and wanting. They hadn’t spoken about it since that night in the motel, and both had been rather careful, Jazz especially.

“Are kisses part of being kept?” Starscream asked, his voice incredibly soft and young-sounding.

“Nope. Kisses are purely optional,” Jazz said and smiled. “Consider them a perk available for the takin’ if and when ya want one.”

Starscream’s optics dropped to his lips, and Jazz carefully cycled his vents as he could _swear_ he could feel the gaze as if it were a physical touch. _I should tell him_ he thought, but then Starscream’s hand came up to cup his face, and Jazz shivered.

“If I want?” the Seeker asked as he tipped his face closer.

Jazz’s spark throbbed. “Only if, sweetspark.” But then Starscream’s lips touched his, and Jazz’s vents caught. A hot thrill rocketed down his back and shoved him forward even as the Seeker’s arms wrapped around his back. _I should tell him,_ he thought again. If he was going to get into a romantic situation, then Starscream deserved to know who Jazz really was. He didn’t want there to be such a huge secret between them. He pulled back, humming as Starscream whined in disappointment, then looked up into the seeker’s optics. He could tell him. He really should, but things were good, and Jazz didn’t want that soft look of affection to turn back to wary distrust. It had snuck up on him, but Jazz stared in wonder at the Seeker, unable to point to the exact moment Starscream had gotten under his plating. Not so deep that the idea of the mech calling him crazy and turning away could hurt.

“What are you thinking?” Starscream asked, his fingers light on Jazz’s face, then tracing the bottom edge of his visor. “What could make you suddenly so afraid?”

Jazz huffed a soft laugh and tipped his face to nip at the Seeker’s fingertip. “Just realized how much I don’t want ta lose ya.”

Red optics flickered in surprise, but the smile that blossomed across Starscream’s face was worth any fear Jazz felt. The following kiss was even better than the first, and this time, it was a good long while before either of them pulled back.

~ | ~

Their apartment was less apartment, more single room with a berth just barely big enough for the two of them to recharge on together. The place had a private washrack, which still felt like a luxury to the both of them, but was also hugely important for Jazz’s job and cheaper in the long run than having to rent time at a public washing facility. Not that much in Lower Iacon -or really anywhere anymore- could be called ‘affordable’, but together they were managing. Starvation and dumpster diving were things of the past, however recent that past was. They’d come further than either expected that first leery night they had hunkered down in the Seeker’s maintenance closet. Even further than Jazz had dared hope in only a few months’ time.

Starscream’s sheer brilliance at science deserved all the credit Jazz could heap on him. He didn’t understand what the Seeker did, but the contraption he’d rigged and insisted on pouring the energon Jazz brought home through, always tasted better and energized them more than if it was consumed straight from the container. Prices were up and climbing, so anything that helped was a good thing.

Jazz entered their little abode after his shift and smiled to see Starscream tinkering with his light flute again. Jazz still didn’t believe he’d ever be able to fix it, but he found that he didn’t mind the attempts. The fact that the Seeker was fiddling with it had the downside of meaning that he had no paying work left for him to do though.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Jazz greeted with a cheery smile.

Starscream glanced up with a smile of his own and a glitter to his red optics. He was sweeter than Jazz’s previous experience with the mech had prepared him for. Softer. He could see now why Skyfire had defended Starscream to the other Autobots so long. And all that hidden gentleness was aimed at Jazz once he’d earned the Seeker’s trust. A job easier than anticipated. Jazz shared fuel, listened when the mech spoke, and was as open and honest as he could be without the crazy talk about bouncing between realities. It was nothing Jazz wouldn’t do for a friend anyway, but Starscream seemed surprised, then touched, then downright snuggly. Those kisses were still nice too, and Jazz hadn’t been able to resist them, nor what followed. He had existed too long without the teasing touch of another mech, and this newfound domesticity was something he cherished all the more for the past he left behind.

“How was your shift?” Starscream asked, turning back to the light flute.

“Good,” Jazz replied and dropped onto his back on the berth within reach of the Seeker. “Got a promotion t’day. Gonna be backup DJ,” he said as he dragged his fingertips out along the lower edge of a wing.

“What happened to the other mech?” Starscream asked, then heaved a frustrated sigh. The flute was placed back on a shelf over their berth until he was ready to try fixing it again. Mech was good, regardless of the stubborn instrument. In fact, it was the extra income from the Seeker’s tinkering and repairing that allowed them to afford their apartment. Which only meant that the timing of Jazz’s good news was even better. Sure his dancing fed them, but tips weren’t that good down this low in the city.

“He didn’t show up.” Jazz snickered and shook his helm at the look that earned him. “Wasn’t me, sweetspark. Mixler didn’t show up, and the boss is sick of him pulling that slag. But that’s not the best news.”

“Oh?” Starscream asked as he shifted to stretch out next to Jazz on the berth. One bright wing cast a shadow over Jazz as the Seeker grinned down at him and stroked a finger along a transformation seam. “What’s the best news then?”

“Well, I might’a mentioned ta the boss that I knew a certain Seeker that was real good with doctorin’ energon. Told ‘im he could do worse than said Seeker in fillin’ that position. He says if ya can pour it without spillin’, he’ll let ya take the mid shift.” Jazz shivered and brought his hands up to touch smooth, warm plating. “Not the best tips, but it’s legit, papered work. Knows ya’re a Seeker already too.”

Starscream scowled, but it was his ‘thinking about it’ scowl, not his ‘get fragged’ scowl. “Play up the wings and flirtation?”

“If ya feel it,” Jazz answered while giving one wing a light squeeze. “Ain’t a hard job. Tirin’, cuz ya’ll be on your feet all evenin’, tedious cuz drunk mechs are idiots, but don’t change who ya are for it. Give ‘em that sass. Slaggers’ll prob’ly eat it up.” Pits, he’d smacked away a few groping hands most nights. If he winked or shook his finger ‘no-no’ at them, some even tipped better.

“Hm,” Starscream said, but then dropped the topic in favor of dipping down to nibble at Jazz’s neck. “I’m glad you’re home,” he murmured.

Jazz wound his arms around the Seeker’s neck and smiled as he arched up against him. “Glad I’m home too.” And he was. He had never expected to feel this way for anyone after all he’d seen, let alone Starscream. Jazz tried to stay fair, not judge this mech by what he had become in a different life. A different world. Starscream made that easy most of the time despite the sharp tongue and quick wit. He hid his hurts, but they were there. They weren’t wearing on him this time though. At least that’s what Jazz thought. For a mech that had come from everything and had fallen to nothing, plus lost his only friend to a tragic accident, he was holding on impressively well.

The slow kisses to Jazz’s neck moved up along his jaw, then over to his lips. He returned them with growing fervor, and let one hand sweep out over the back of Starscream’s wing in encouragement. The Seeker might huff about his frame type being both fetishized and hated for so-called barbarism of Vosians, but he was very proud of his wings and accepted all the worship Jazz wanted to give them.

“You’re so quiet tonight,” Starscream said. “What are you thinking about?” Soft lips brushed over the visor, then worked their way to an audial horn.

Jazz chuckled, then sighed as a tingle of desire rippled down the side of his neck. “About you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Mn. And glad I am of it,” Jazz said. “Was thinkin’ that. Happy here. Ain’t the best we can do yet, but we’re doin’ it, and I wanna go higher with ya.”

Teeth scraped lightly over Jazz’s audial. “Hm. Yes, where would you be without me?”

Jazz tightened his hold and shook his helm. He knew well enough, and he didn’t want to think on it. Of course, Starscream’s insecurities required and answer. “Don’t even wanna imagine it, sweetling.” He tipped his helm and found those soft lips again, then squirmed a bit to get fully under Starscream.

There was a soft chuckle, then the Seeker was sliding between Jazz’s thighs. The kiss deepened, turned his joints to gel and sent heat spiraling through his systems. It was easy enough to fall for this, he thought. Not just the interfacing, but the way Starscream gave of himself so completely. Had he been like this before? Given all to Megatron only for it not to be appreciated the way he had needed? Jazz pushed the thoughts away. He had Starscream now, and it’d been a long time since the world had flared to white and dumped him somewhere else. Maybe this was what all that had been for? Fate was cruel, but had ultimately given him another chance to find the happiness he’d ached for, for so long?

“Are you with me?” Starscream asked as he lightly dragged his fingertips over the hot panel between Jazz’s legs.

“Ain’t nowhere else I ever wanna be, Star,” Jazz said, optics meeting the Seeker’s. Primus, he had it bad, didn’t he? How’d they get here? Because _Starscream_ was looking back at him with just as much of the same emotion as Jazz felt. Pits, he was drowning in it, and only refusing to give it a name for fear of losing it. “Nowhere else,” he repeated, the words whispered.

Starscream’s dark face heated. It didn’t show, but this close Jazz could feel it. His lips burned against Jazz’s when they pressed and parted, and a low moan escaped one of them. Then another. Jazz thought that might’ve been him as his panel retracted. It was definitely him when Starscream eased two fingers into his valve and rubbed his thumb over the flat, sensor-rich space between it and the rim of his spike housing.

“Killin’ me, Star.”

“So slick already,” Starscream purred, then nipped Jazz’s lower lip. “All for me?”

“Every drop.”

“Too bad I’m feeling so impatient then.” There was a click, and Starscream removed his fingers, though Jazz wasn’t left bereft for long.

The slow, thick push of Starscream’s spike into him made Jazz’s gyros spin. The berth dipped and turned under them. Or maybe that was the whole planet? He couldn’t tell, but he held tighter to his lover just in case as they began to rock together. Starscream wasn’t loud, but every soft cry spun Jazz’s spark and stoked the flames burning through his lines higher and higher. Every deep plunging stroke of his spike shot the charge tingling and buzzing over his sensornet until his moans drowned any sounds Starscream might have made.

“Please!” Jazz gasped, thighs tight against Starscream’s hips. “Please, babe, I need it!”

Starscream purred. “Mmm… Must feel good tonight. You always slip into that other language when it’s really good.”

Jazz moaned, all words lost as the Seeker wound his hips around and thrust harder. For a long, drawn out, blissful moment he was held to the edge, then launched over it and into blinding pleasure. Starscream said something against his audial, then heat flooded Jazz’s valve in hot spurts and sent him right back into overload. When the world righted itself, their vents heaved, and Starscream was smiling down at him.

“Real good,” Jazz moaned, shivering with an aftershock. “So fraggin’ good, sweet stuff.” He held tighter and relaxed under the Seeker’s comfortable weight.

~ | ~

The months blazed by in a happy, busy haze for Jazz. The nightmares of the past became just that- faint, faded nightmares. To the point that he wondered if any of it had ever happened. He wasn’t one to doubt himself, but it was all so fantastical that simple reasoning and logic pointed to it just being a bad dream. Pits, maybe the whole war had been a night of really bad energon? Maybe he’d been drugged?

Jazz tried not to dwell on it too much, and in truth, especially of late, he just didn’t have the time to. He was the main DJ at a club about three steps up from the place he’d started at in this world. He danced too, eager to make the creds. Starscream was at a bar a few doors down, working the late shift too, and fluttering those pretty wings of his while playing chemist behind the counter. They were doing alright. So alright, in fact, that there had been talk about trying to find a better apartment, though they were both a bit fearful. Prices were still climbing despite the new Prime.

Optimus Prime.

Jazz had forgotten himself and cheered when the new Prime was announced. Starscream had been nonplussed, then curious. Then, he’d gone and just about scared Jazz half to death by zipping down to Kaon to listen to _Megatron_ hold a rally. He managed to hold onto his cool, and said that the new Prime really ought to chat up that activist down there in Kaon. Starscream had eyed him, helm tipped, then grinned and said he needed to visit the archives. Jazz had gone with him, and together they hacked into the communications network. Starscream was impressed with how fast Jazz managed to tap into the Prime’s personal comms, but Jazz shrugged it off with a finger wiggle. They sent _Toward Peace_ to Optimus Prime, then slipped out before anyone noticed the hack.

Only days later the young new Prime shocked all of Cybertron by flouting convention and reaching out to Megatron. The Senate hated them both, but mechs everywhere loved them. Optimus Prime was an idealist. Megatron a realist. Alone, the world would have fallen to war, and while there was still a lot of tension, Megatron bolstered Optimus’ strengths. With Megatron’s brazen contempt of authority, Optimus took the reins his title granted him. The Senate screamed, but they were all but powerless. And when Jazz thought he could do some good, he’d send a little text only -anonymously- to the Prime to point him in the right direction. Corruption after corruption was discovered. The Senate fell in a matter of weeks, but this time, instead of Starscream leading a bloodbath, it was Optimus striding forward in justice with Megatron at his side.

Starscream’s wings fluttered every time Megatron was on the vid screen, but Jazz wasn’t jealous. He teased the Seeker about his infatuation, begging promises of devotion, that Starscream would never leave him for the big silver poet. All with over the top dramatic flair.

“You’re ridiculous,” Starscream sighed, then tackled Jazz to the berth. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me forever?” Jazz replied, stunning them both with the words. His body flushed with heat, but Starscream simply heaved another sigh.

“I suppose I shall have to. Can’t have you running off to consort with the Prime.”

When Jazz finally managed to peel himself away from his Seeker, he was a good deal more tired, sticky, and about to be late for work. “Where’s that doohickey you wanted me to drop off?” he asked as he hurriedly swiped a cloth over his thighs. He was playing music tonight, not dancing, so it would do.

“Here.” Starscream gripped his chin and leaned down for a lingering, purring kiss that melted Jazz’s struts and left him weak in the knees. “See you after shift, lover.”

“Mmn… Fraggin’ bet ya will.”

Jazz bounced out of their apartment with a springy step, a random tune hummed as he ducked through the alley. The mech that had commissioned the minor repair work was just a couple buildings over and easy enough for Jazz to deliver to on his way to the club. It was a strangely quiet evening, and Jazz turned his humming to whistling, enjoying the peace of it.

_Shhhhhushhhhhh_

“No,” he gasped, frozen. He couldn’t look over his shoulder because if he tried, the world would go white. He would be taken from Starscream! No more sweet kisses before drifting into recharge. No more waking to warm arms wound around him. No more snarky banter with sly smiles.

His fuel pump pushed ice through his lines. “No, I’m _happy_ ,” Jazz begged, Starscream’s smiling face from just minutes before hovering in his mind’s eye as he squeezed his optics shut.

“Just leave me alo-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **REMINDER!** \- Please do not leave spoilery comments, ESPECIALLY to other readers. I WILL delete them. Unfortunately if you spoiler another reader by answering their comment FOR me, they'll get the alert and you've ruined part of their enjoyment. Please don't do that. Thank you.


	6. Chapter 6

Jazz howled in rage. _Screamed_ with fury as he dropped to his knees with his helm thrown back, hands fisted against his middle. His shouts echoed, hollow and unanswered, and he collapsed forward. Momentarily drained of the anger, the anguish took over. He wrapped his arms around his middle, and sobbed as he rocked on his knees.

What would become of Starscream now? What would his disappearance do to that sweet, snarky, clever, wounded, beautiful mech? Would he think Jazz abandoned him? Would he be accused of another crime he didn’t commit? Would he tear the city apart? Become bitter, hateful? Unhinged?

It wasn’t fair! Jazz had never in his entire life been so happy, so _content_. Sure, they were striving for more, but they would have been fine for ages in that box of an apartment.

“Frag you to the deepest, hottest frelling _Pit_!” Jazz screamed. “You hear me, you fragger?!”

No! He was going home. He didn’t know how yet, but he was going to figure it out, and then he was _going_ to go home. Jazz inhaled until his respiration cycle had to reverse, then let his optics shut as he exhaled. He wasn’t calm. He wasn’t even close, but raving wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

Jazz dragged himself to his feet and looked around. He was in an empty, rather desolate looking square. It was dusty and dry and looked more like concrete than metal. He didn’t know the city, but it wasn’t Iacon or Polyhex. He thought it _might_ be Praxus but for the odd statues in the middle of the square. It certainly wasn’t Vos as those statues might suggest. The buildings weren’t tall enough, and that was saying nothing of the fact that both Vos and Praxus had been bombed to rubble. This place looked abandoned, not war-torn.

There was nothing close that he could pick up on his scanners, and it seemed that all that screaming hadn’t drawn anyone close to see what he was shouting about. Jazz frowned around himself as he moved closer to the statue. He gave the figures a long look, shuddering a bit as he took them in. “Ain’t you creepy?” he asked, helm tilting a bit.

Three Seekers stood facing outward from the triangle, their wingtips _almost_ touched, and their helms were bowed. All three had their faces cupped in their hands, and the body language suggested that was to hide tears. Like they were weeping or mourning. Jazz frowned and shivered, backing slowly away from them. It was probably a memorial of some type for Vos, but where were the inhabitants of _this_ city?

Jazz moved away from the sculpture with a parting, wary look, then began searching and calling out. Before he had always tried to remain hidden, low key, but he had already given away his position with that tantrum, so why not seek assistance? However, there was simply no one around. He tried to ping a network, but got nothing back but static. His scanners didn’t register anything. No heat signatures, no energy fields. Not just from mechs, but _no_ fields of any kind. It was as if the entire planet was dead.

For a few days, Jazz drove, stopping now and then to check for life signs and sip at the energon he had taken to keeping in his subspace back when he first met Starscream. Starvation was a damn good teacher, and he had a fairly decent supply. He recharged in the open against every instinct, daring _someone_ to show themselves. How could he be the only living thing on an entire planet?

A month later and half of Cybertron between himself and the spot he landed in, and Jazz was nearly out of energon. It had been a month with no other mechs. No voices or sounds that he didn’t create himself. No animals, not even a turborat. Nothing but dusty, empty, aging cityscapes and flat, barren plains.

Jazz rolled to a stop and transformed next to a vacant park in what he figured was Tetrahex. There was nothing on his scanners, the search being habitual now instead of desperate. “Still alone, Jazzy,” he said to himself, just to hear _something_. He sighed and shook his helm as he wandered onto the footpath of the park. Unlike the parks of Earth, where trees and playsets for children decorated the parks, Cybertron tended toward sculptures. Tetrahex had been a religious city, and the sculptures and crystals reflected that history. The crystals had long since grown wild, but the sculptures stood tall and elegant. Serene and silent.

Jazz stood still, face lifted to stare listlessly up at a statue of Primus and thought he was finally losing his mind when he heard it. It was just a soft scrape behind him on the path. Then it repeated, and he sagged in relief.

 _Shhhshhh_.

“Take me home,” he whispered, then white blazed behind his optic shutters.

~ | ~

It was the war all over again. Some point before the _Ark_ left for Earth, but after the majority of the destruction. Jazz joined the Autobots but avoided rank. It wasn’t really offered anyway, not to some fringe straggler who wandered in late with a thick Polyhexian accent. He wasn’t part of this world, didn’t want to be, and they could probably sense it. He was angry all the time, vicious in battle, but noticeably avoided anything that even hinted of Seekers. Mechs looked at Jazz oddly and kept their distance. He didn’t cause trouble, and Command was too busy to deal with a mech who mostly did as told and kept to himself.

Oddly enough, there wasn’t another Jazz in this world. Jazz was sure he would have heard of the mech if he existed. Pits, if Jazz heard of another with his description and name, he would have walked right up to the mech and introduced himself. At the top were Optimus Prime, Prowl, and Ultra Magnus. No Jazz. Mirage was in charge of Spec Ops. Bumblebee was in training as a scout, just as sneaky as Jazz recalled, but Mirage didn’t see it. Jazz didn’t care enough to say anything either. He was waiting for that _sound_ while squirreling away any extra energon he could. There wasn’t much. Not with as tight as rationing was, but Jazz was a damn good thief.

Good thing too because the next mission was in Vos. Jazz hadn’t realized that was the destination until they arrived, or he would have refused to go. He was slagged off. There was no purpose in being here. Sure Seekers still lived in Vos- well, ‘lived’ was too strong a word. They scraped by and survived in the husk of their city because there were too many of them as yet to house at Darkmount. Only the Command Trine and a few hand-picked others were allowed to stay there. Here in Vos were the starvlings. The low ranking Seekers and hybrid, flight capable Vosians. They were bitter, as they should be. Hungry. Angry. And they did not take well to Autobots tromping through the wrecked streets of their once glittering city. Jazz couldn’t see the point of it either. There was nothing here of value, and he knew this event never took place in his own history. It was cruel, and he let himself slip to the back of the unit as the Autobots invaded.

Jazz ducked away as soon as he safely could and wandered through the ruins in the hope that being alone would draw _it_ and that sound that marked his journey to yet another world. He was sick of this one. Sick of being away from Starscream. Thrusters roared, echoing through the empty corridors between abandoned, crumbling buildings, and Jazz ducked into an open doorway to hide, but the Seekers flew overhead and on, hauling aft as they whipped along in a tight formation. Jazz waited only long enough to be sure they weren’t circling back before moving out again.

Ahead a few blocks and around a corner he spotted the main battle. Flames licked up the sides of buildings, burning bright from their chemical base. Wheeljack, Jazz thought, then shivered when he spotted the Seekers. Not real, living mechs. No, the living were busy flying and shooting at Autobots. Jazz stared up through the smoke and fires and shivered. Two of those statues stood, their faces in their hands as though they couldn’t bear to watch even more destruction in Vos.

 _I’m gettin’ weird,_ Jazz thought and -not for the first time- worried about his sanity. He shook off the creeps, optics still on the fires and battle, and edged sideways. He needed to get out of there. Slag the war. Slag tearing at mechs already down and out. No wonder they went after Praxus. Look what the Autobots were doing here. How could the war ever end when this was what the ‘good guys’ chose to do to mechs barely managing to stay alive?

Jazz shook his helm then turned to slip around the side of a building. He would get out of Vos and find some other place to hole up. There was still energon on this Cybertron. Not much and not easy to find, but he’d pick a spot and work it out. He gave one final glance back, but that’s when he heard _it_ , and froze.

“Fragger.”

~ | ~

The archive was quiet so late at night, and Jazz preferred it that way. There had been a very helpful mech by the name of Orion on the day shift, but he was too chatty, too fascinated by the things Jazz wanted to research. He had lacked the sneering judgement some of the other archivists had sent toward the battered traveler, but Orion was way too talkative. Jazz learned what he could from the mech then started coming to the archives late. He was watched at first, but the night crew was less attentive than the day workers. It allowed Jazz the time and solitude to wander and search.

By Jazz’s most conservative estimates, he had been away from Starscream for a year. A whole frelling _year_! He resisted the urge to slam down the datapad in his hands. It was useless. Every world was Cybertron, but not _his_ Cybertron, and not the one where Starscream was likely suffering without him. There were a few constants that he had noted- at least in the worlds where there were mechs. Primus, Unicron, the lack of another Jazz, and those damn, creepyaft Seeker statues. Since he had noticed them, he couldn’t _stop_ noticing them.

There were records, religious documents, books, pamphlets, and artworks for Primus and Unicron. There were no records of a Jazz, not by any of the names he had gone by. And there was absolutely nothing about the statues.

Not until, frustrated and needing a break, Jazz had grabbed a book of horror stories off a random shelf. It wasn’t about the Seekers, but it _was_ about possessed sculptures that hid their monstrous faces. They hunted and killed, sucking the life force from their victims. If a mech saw them, he should beware, for he was their next meal.

Jazz shivered and turned off the datapad. Not Seekers though. In fact, no description at all beyond ‘sculpture with his face hid in his hands’. Cue spooky soundtrack, Jazz thought wryly.

No, it really was spooky, because he had seen those statues ever since he was taken from Starscream. Seven worlds, including this one, but Jazz wasn’t dead. If the monsters- if the Seeker statues were making a meal out of him, why was he still alive?

With a sigh, Jazz dragged himself to a helpdesk and asked for any other information on the sculptures.

“I’m sorry, what?” asked the archivist.

“I’m puttin’ together a kind of… anthology of scary stories,” Jazz replied with a friendly smile. “And in this here datapad, I just came over a cool one that really gave me the chills, yeah? So, I’m wondering if ya can help me find any other bits and pieces that mention statues that hide their faces until they attack ya.”

The archivist blinked, then snickered. “Trying to scare the younglings, huh?”

“Everyone likes a good ghost story, my mech.” Jazz kept the smile plastered to his face as the information was hunted up, but in the end there was only one other datapad, and it really was a book of scary tales for younglings.

Defeated and tired, Jazz slipped out of the archives and into the academy building. He was clearly not a student, but none of them stopped or hassled him as he ducked into the maintenance corridors. He was able to nab energon and keep mostly clean here, and it kept him close to the archives. So long as he stayed away from the real maintenance crew, he would be able to get fuel and recharge in a relatively safe place.

The corridor was eerily dark, and Jazz paused as he looked down it. His little stolen closet was just a dozen mechanometers down, but his spark slammed in its crystal while his feet felt glued to the floor.

Jazz heaved a sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face, fingers pushing up under his visor. “Primus, Jazzy. Ya scared yourself with those stupid fairy tales.” But he had barely taken a step when he heard the soft scrape behind him.

_Shhhhhsuhshhhhh_

Once again, Jazz’s universe blazed white.

~ | ~

“Ya really think Shockwave’s hidin’ in Vos?” Jazz asked the unit commander as the small team that liked to call themselves The Wreckers moved through the desolate once-city. Vos was dead. Ash and rust, the tall, spiraling towers long since fallen to jaggy lumps of charred, rended metal. There were no lights or signals, so why did Autobot Command think Shockwave was here?

Kup glanced back. “Nervous, rookie?”

Jazz snorted a laugh that might have been a little too telling. Nervous? After having bounced through world after war-torn world? Pits, he’d remade himself so many times to slot into the new realities that even he was starting to lose the thread of who he really was.

 _I’m Starscream’s Jazz_ , he whispered within his own mind and purposely recalled that last smile the Seeker had given him. _I’m his Jazz_.

“Well, Prowl said this was where he was, and Wreckers jump daringly where others quail.” Kup waved a hand, amused by the rhetoric rather than trying to convince Jazz of the truth of it. They were a crazy group that loved their reputation.

Hours in and there was still no sign of Shockwave. No drones, no surveillance, and Jazz was looking for every possible sign that _anyone_ was in the ruins of Vos. It was when Kup called a halt for a bit of a break that Jazz spotted them. Three Seeker statues with the faces in their hands. Each one was on the highest ledge of what remained of three of the buildings around the Wreckers.

Jazz pointed. “The slag are those things?”

Kup twisted to follow Jazz’s pointing finger. “Ah.” The old mech chuckled and made himself comfortable on a piece of broken wall. “Gather ‘round young’ins. Grandsire’s gotta tale for ya.”

Springer groaned, but Jazz sat close, optics shifting from statue to statue in the dying light of the day.

“They’re Mournin’ Seekers,” Kup began. “Story goes that they first appeared durin’ the Fall of Vos. They were there when the fires began ta die. Shadows through the chokin’ smoke. Some said they were once mechs. Some claim they weren’t nothin’ but statues, but the Fall was so violent, and so many died in such a short time that Primus couldn’t gather ‘em all to the Well. Lost, the sparks took up residence in the statues, forever trapped. Forever mourning the loss of all them lives.”

Jazz shivered, and Twin Twist snickered at him.

Kup smirked, but continued on. “They can’t move if ya’re lookin’ at ‘em.” He pointed at each statue in turn. “See how they’re angled? They can’t look at each other either. If they ever did, they’d be stuck. That’s why they zip up on their victims in the dark. Can’t stop ‘em if ya can’t see ‘em. Then the poor slagger’s never seen or heard from again.”

“So how do we kill them?” Jazz asked.

Springer snorted. “Sticky grenade?”

“I’m good with defacing Seekers,” Whirl added. “And I got grenades!”

Kup laughed and slapped Jazz’s shoulder. “It’s a statue, kid. Just psychological warfare. Ghost stories. Whirl, sit your aft down, ya glitch. We ain’t announcin’ our presence with explosions.” He paused. “Yet. No. Behave, or when I’m ready I won’t let ya have any part o’ the fun.”

Jazz ignored the banter and whining and watched the statues. Sticky grenades were good. Some C-4 would probably do. Det cord would work. Pits, some target practice with his blaster might be enough, but if he started shooting now, things could go bad. Kup played it off, but he believed Shockwave was there too, and while Jazz didn’t exactly care about these mechs, he wouldn’t put them in a position to die because of him.

Later, as the Wreckers fled the destruction of Shockwave’s lab -empty of one purple boob- Jazz fell behind. “Where are they?” he asked, optics searching for the statues that were no longer on the ledges, but the team hauled aft well ahead of him, and no one stopped to look back. “Slag me,” he muttered, but before he could take a step forward, everything went white.

~ | ~

The sky overhead was a sickly, toxic yellow that cast a sickly, toxic light down on the broken ground. However, Jazz was far more interested in the sight before him than the quality of the air. He’d finally found those frelling statues. All three faced out from what looked to have once been a fountain. Jazz dared to touch one, afraid of getting bounced out of the world, but it didn’t so much as twitch. He reached out again, hands running down the side of a leg. It felt like stone, or maybe some odd, rough alloy with a coating? Whatever it was made from, the surface was rough, nothing like Starscream’s smooth, fine plating. It wasn’t any warmer or cooler than the air. No pulse of a spark. No energy signature. Nothing. A statue.

A creepy damn statue, but just a statue. “But that’s what ya want us ta think, ain’t it?” Jazz asked, then, cycling his vents, he grabbed hold and pulled. He hadn’t actually expected it to budge, but while it was certainly heavy, it wasn’t impossible to move.

The surprise saved his life - Jazz stepped back to frown and double-check that the other two hadn't moved only for a blaster bolt to hiss past his head, missing him by inches.

“Damn. I missed,” came a mocking drawl.

Blaster in hand, Jazz whipped around to stare in shock at the mech. Slag! He was getting far too careless! More of a surprise than the mech himself suddenly appearing was the _purple_ Autobot symbol on his chest. “Your mistake,” Jazz said, but he didn’t fire. “Always shoot at a mech’s back? Ain’t that a bit dishonorable?”

“Pff. Talk like a ‘Con,” the mech said, then aimed another lazy, almost playful shot at Jazz.

It was easily dodged, and Jazz slipped sideways to put the statue between himself and the other mech. “How ‘bout instead of shootin’ me, ya tell me whatcha know about these monsters here? Know anythin’ about how they like ta play reality ping pong with a mech? This ain’t my world,” he said and stepped back, ducking to escape under the wings of the other two Seekers.

The mech tipped his helm and scowled at Jazz under pale Seeker wings. “Cracked, huh?” Then frown shifted to an oily smirk. “That could be even more fun to play with.”

Jazz shook his helm as he angled to the side just a little more. “Think I’ll pass. Bye.” He spun, putting a Seeker between himself and the strange mech, then _ran_. He had no doubt the other mech would follow and that he was crazy enough to view this as ‘playing’ with Jazz, but he wasn’t going to stick around and get injured by a more serious shot.

The ground was uneven, and there wasn’t all that much cover. There weren’t buildings, just piles of rubble, and Jazz was forced to scramble over and around them with a mech on his tail who knew the landscape much better than he did. Slowing, Jazz dashed to the side and ducked under a low bit of rusted metal. It became a deadly game of Hide and Seek from there. Jazz was quiet, but so was the other mech. He was angry though, and Jazz was determined, and hiding became easier and easier as the light began to wane.

“Fragger! Suck slag!” the mech shouted, not twenty paces from Jazz’s little cubby. “Hope the Lost get you!” He turned around, still searching, but then in the distance a low howl sounded. The red optics brightened, then paled in genuine fear. He was gone in the next instant, rushing away noisy and with all haste.

That was a very bad sign, Jazz determined and squirmed from his hiding spot. He made his way back to the statues, still trying to move quietly. The howls were getting closer, and with the way that other mech had taken off, Jazz knew whatever the ‘Lost’ were, they couldn’t be good.

“Oh frag me,” Jazz hissed as he caught sight of the place the statues _had_ been. “Damnit!” He spun around, spark pulsing hard as what sounded like an Empty’s groan came from far too close. He was out of sight still, but that wouldn’t last long. “About ta lose your meal ticket, ya fraggers!” he shouted, knowing full well he was already surrounded. His scanners pinged back from every direction.

Jazz turned, round and round, optics searching and blaster up, and he finally spotted a place that might work. A pile of rubble, but taller, and when he reached it, there was an actual doorway into it. Without waiting he ducked inside, hands reaching for anything that he could make a barricade from. His fingertips scraped over the rough surface of what felt like stone, and ice shot through his lines. “Oh sure, listen ta me this time, ya glitch.”

One again, white light consumed everything, and Jazz was whisked away to another world.

~ | ~

Another world, but they made a mistake this time and picked another populated place. Jazz was careful to stay close to other mechs, fully aware that the Seekers wouldn’t be able to get to him so long as he was never alone. He joined the Autobots again, and this time made friends. It wasn’t difficult to keep in the company of others. Jazz was friendly and well liked when he wanted to be. He helped out Command without looking like too much of a goodie-goodie to the troops. He was playful and cheerful, chatty enough that despite his shifts in surveillance and willingness to help out with inventory, no one seemed to think he was angling for a promotion, and thus, out of bounds to hang out with off-shift. 

It was by pure luck that Jazz found the statues. He practically tripped over them while on patrol with Bluestreak, though there were only the two. They stood back to back, wingtips just shy of touching, and Jazz scowled at them. Where was the third?

“Frag this,” Jazz said and strode toward the statues.

“Jazz,” Bluestreak hissed, and hurried after Jazz. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to destroy these,” he replied as the thought occurred. Yes. It was fragging time, and he was so frelling _tired_ of the game these monsters were playing with his life. Here was his chance to level the field some, and he reached out with his spark pulsing hard to touch the first Seeker. When nothing happened, he began turning it to face its mate.

“I don’t get it,” Bluestreak said, his doorwings low and helm tilted. “Why mess with statues?” He stood to the side while Jazz worked, confused but still standing guard to keep them safe. The gunner gnawed his lip as Jazz checked the angle and worked the one Seeker closer to the other. They wouldn’t be slipping away this time. “Why are there Seeker statues _here_ anyways?”

Jazz looked up, searching the buildings around them for the other one, but he didn’t see it. “Well, ya see there, Blue. These ain’t really statues. They’re some weird monster or alien lifeform, or something.” He shrugged and began to pull the explosives he had been squirreling away from his subspace. “Not much about them out there in the archives. Not even before the war, but they like ta sneak up on a mech, rip him from the love of ‘is life, and run ‘im ragged through a bunch of parallel realities. Sick bastards.”

Bluestreak’s doorwings shot up in alarm, and he twisted all around to look, but the third was nowhere to be seen. “So you’re gonna-”

“Gonna blow ‘em up. That’s right.” Jazz began wiring them up, feeling giddy and almost afraid of the dark beast that roiled under his own spark, but enough was enough.

“Isn’t this a bad idea?” Bluestreak asked. He was still craning his neck to look around, as if expecting an attack any moment. He could be right on that account. Mourning Seeker or Decepticon Seeker, they weren’t exactly in a safe place. The square was entirely exposed to the sky. “I mean, if they’re really, like, aliens, isn’t this sort of like murder?”

“Probably,” Jazz replied, and he paused after pushing the sticky side of the block of C-4 to the space right between the one Seeker’s wings. “I hope they’re aware,” he said, voice almost purring as the hatred filled him again. “I hope you guys know what’s comin’. Hope ya’re scared.”

“Jazz? You’re scaring _me_ ,” Bluestreak said. “I don’t think you should do this.” He edged back, and Jazz growled at him.

“Stay. Put.” Jazz almost felt bad about upsetting the mech, but he wasn’t going to pass up this chance. “I need you on lookout. I’ll be done soon, and ya can run home ta tell ‘em just how badly I’m misbehavin’, but this first.”

It didn’t take him long to finish wiring up the two Mourning Seekers, and then Jazz led Bluestreak to a gap between two buildings. His spark still pounded away in its crystal, but to the Pit with all of this. He’d either show the surviving fragger that he wasn’t willing to play this slagged up game anymore, or he’d make it so angry it’d finally kill him. Jazz would call either option a win.

“Jazz,” Bluestreak whispered. “Are you _sure_ about this?” He clung to Jazz’s arm, doorwings low and trembling. “We’re going to be in so much trouble.”

Jazz didn’t take his optics off the two Seekers, but he nodded. “Oh yeah. I’ve never been more sure of anythin’, and I ain’t likely ta get this chance again. Now dampen your audials.” He didn’t wait to confirm Bluestreak had obeyed, and pressed the detonation trigger.

The blast was _spectacular_. It blew the both of them back down the alley, rocked the ground hard enough that Teletraan was absolutely going to pick it up, and -once Jazz could stand and wobble back to confirm it- had definitely obliterated the statues. There was nothing left but debris and a smoking crater.

Bluestreak gave Jazz a last look, then dropped into his alt mode and tore away.

Jazz let him go and crossed his arms over his chest. “Take me from my family, now I’ve taken yours from you. How’s that feel, ya bastard?” he asked, not bothering to speak loudly. It didn’t matter if the last Seeker heard him or not. Jazz leaned a shoulder against the corner of the building and didn’t move when he heard a soft scrape behind him.

“Take me back to him,” Jazz growled, then his world flashed to an incredibly bright white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Vos by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7262752)


	7. Chapter 7

_Flash!_

_Flash!_

_Flash!_

_Flash!_

_Flash!_

_Flash!_

Jazz dove for the street, gyros doing an admirable imitation of a tornado. He flailed and fell, tripping a mech that had been walking by.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” the mech snapped as he yanked his ankle from under Jazz.

“Sorry, my mech.” Jazz struggled past the vertigo and wobbled his way back to his feet. “Some slagger knocked me about and I tripped tryin’ ta get away.”

“Oh.” The mech frowned and looked down the alley, then back to Jazz. The irritation in his field was replaced by concern. “Are you hurt?”

“Uh…” Primus, was he? Six jumps in less than two days. He certainly felt like slag, but he didn’t have anything on his HUD, and as he stood still his gyros settled a bit. “Think I’m ok. Thanks.” He looked around. “Where am I?”

The mech looked around again, then tugged on Jazz’s elbow. “You really must’ve gotten your bell rung…” he trailed off.

“Jazz,” Jazz supplied with a smile. “And sorry again for trippin’ ya there.”

“It’s ok,” the mech said. “And I’m Lightning.” He waited with a smile that faded to a little frown when Jazz didn’t seem to react. “The Racer?”

“Oh!” The Racer, huh? Well, Jazz could play along with this. “Oh wow! Yeah, holy slag, mech! I thought ya looked familiar, but…” He tapped the side of his helm and let the sentence hang. Lightning could make of it what he wanted.

It seemed to be enough though. Lightning smiled and linked his arm with Jazz’s. “Don’t worry. Must have been pretty frightening and all to have some mech just attack you. I can’t believe how rough the streets are getting of late.” He gestured with his free hand up the wide avenue. “You’re on Primus’ Promenade now. Long run?”

“Ya have no idea,” Jazz said with feeling, then flashed a grin up at the mech. “I owe ya a drink, Lightning. There a nice little place ya like close by?” He glanced down at himself. “That’ll let me in?”

Lightning tsked. “Please. I’ll see you home. As much as I enjoy a nice night out, you look a fright and need to recover.”

Jazz bit his lip, and thought fast. “Not from here. That mech? Yeah, it was a bit more than just jumpin’ me.” He shook his helm. “Look, I don’t wanna dump a sob story on ya. Maybe ya could just show me where the nearest transport terminal is here?” He gave the buildings another look and took a guess based on the street name. “Iacon, right?”

Lightning stopped walking and the crowd on the sidewalk flowed around them. “Primus! You were asking what _city_ , not what street?!”

Jazz gave the Racer a sad little nod. “I was in Polyhex. Worked as a DJ in this great little club.” He heaved a sigh and tucked his chin closer to his chest. “Left my shift and was walkin’ home. Usual route. Suddenly bam! Right in the helm.” An added shiver had Lightning wrapping Jazz up in a hug right then and there.

“Oh you poor thing!” Jazz was set back by a firm grip to his upper arms. “No arguing with me now. I’m taking you to my place to clean up, then we’ll go to the enforcers and let them know the sort of nonsense happening right under their noses!”

Jazz nodded and let himself be led off. Better an exuberant, out-of-touch Racer with good intentions than a slagged off Mourning Seeker, and Jazz chose to play up the victim act a little.

Lightning clearly wasn’t the darling of the tracks he liked to think himself, but his place was posh enough. Jazz was shown to a bright, mirrored, and rather fancy washroom to clean up, and when he stepped out, he found himself turned over to Lightning’s favorite detailer. Jazz sipped energon that the Racer had been adorable enough to place nutrient additives in while he was shined right up. Once that was over, it was time for the enforcers, but Jazz balked. He was no stranger to telling lies and manipulating mechs for a desired end, but he really was exhausted.

“Do ya think it could wait?” Jazz asked in a plaintive tone as the detailer slipped unobtrusively out the door. “I’m so tired, and I can’t think, and I know they’re gonna ask a million questions, but everythin’s such a jumble! They’ll think I’m makin’ it up. I’m not from here. Why would they believe me? Those mechs said no one would!”

“Easy! Easy, Jazz,” Lightning crooned, and Jazz felt a little twinge of guilt. This mech wasn’t bad at all. Pits, he was downright and genuinely kind. Not the brightest bulb to believe Jazz’s cockamamie story, but then Jazz was a damn good liar. “You’re right. It’s really late, and you’ve been though a lot.” He led the way to the sofa and gently nudged Jazz down onto it. “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll go grab you a thermal?”

Jazz sucked in his lower lip and nodded. A blanket was draped over him, and Lightning said he was just through the berthroom door if Jazz needed him, then the lights were out and Jazz was alone, but safe.

Then again…

He sucked in a surprised breath and stared out the window in front of him. There, across the street and high up on the side of the neighboring building stood the Seeker, face in its hands. But instead of lowered wings, these were arched, high and angry. Jazz stood and crossed to the window. “Yeah. I see ya too, ya fragger,” he murmured, then dragged the blinds shut.

_I’m safe inside,_ Jazz thought as he crossed back to the sofa. Though it was a long time before he finally fell into recharge.

~ | ~

Lightning was very sweet and understanding, and Jazz apologized profusely and thanked the mech constantly, and for two days of ‘recovery’ he stayed inside Lightning’s apartment, only too aware of the Seeker across the way.

“I have to go for a maintenance check,” Lightning announced the next morning. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Jazz replied. “Thanks. I really appreciate it all.”

Lightning smiled. “Good. Ok, so when I get back, we’ll go talk to the enforcers.” He squeezed Jazz’s shoulder with a supportive hand. “I’ll be right there with you.”

Jazz nodded and offered the mech a smile. “Yeah. I think I’m ready.” He wrung his hands a bit and let the Racer hug him goodbye, then sighed as the door shut. “Really sorry, Lightning,” he muttered, then went into the washracks.

One good punch broke one of the mirrors, and Jazz picked a piece that was easy enough to conceal in his hand. He turned over a bit of furniture, broke a cheap vase, and then stole all the stored energon. Guilt gnawed at him. This mech had been nothing but genuine and sweet to him. In another life, Jazz could have really liked him. Pits, he _did_ like Lightning. He certainly didn’t deserve to have his stuff messed up and his fuel taken, but let the mech think Jazz was taken again. Let him report it. If Jazz failed to get home-

No, he wasn’t going to think like that. He was going to find that fragging Seeker and go home to his Starscream. Determination swelled, and Jazz slipped out of Lightning’s apartment and back into Iacon’s dim alleys.

~ | ~

It took days of wandering in the dark of the gutters, like the glitch knew what Jazz was up to and was avoiding him. But then, just as Jazz was thinking he should find a nice populated place to rethink his plan, he heard it.

_shuhshhushhh_

Jazz made to turn, but then lifted the piece of mirror so it showed the alley behind him over his shoulder. His spark flickered in its crystal and fear thrilled right down his spinal struts, but he managed to resist the urge to close his optics to the horror behind him.

“Gotcha, ya glitch,” Jazz purred instead. Primus, but it was a sight. Clawed hands reached for Jazz’s shoulders, a finger’s breadth away from touching him. Fury twisted the pretty face, and fangs were bared as though it had planned to take a bite out of him.

“Yeah. Bet ya’re fragged right off, aren’t ya? But see, I’m way more pissed. I was happy. I was in love, an’ ya stole me from my home.” Jazz stared right into the stone-looking optics. “Gonna make ya a deal, and I suggest ya take it. Take me home. Take me back ta Starscream, the world where he was diggin’ in a dumpster for a meal. I was there for _months_ , longer than any other place. That’s the world I wanna go back to.” He paused and cycled his vents, spark pounding, fingers almost numb from some instinctual fear of the thing behind him.

“Take me back. Right ta that alley. Ya take me back there, to the instant after I was stolen, and I’ll let ya live. If ya don’t…” Jazz chuckled and tipped his helm just a little. Not enough to lose sight of the Seeker though. “Well, if ya don’t, then I’m gonna destroy you too. I don’t care if it kills me ta do it. I know what ya are. I know how ta hunt ya. And I think ya know I can find ya and really do it. Really kill ya.”

He paused again and stared into the unseeing optics. “Ya take me home right now, then ya leave me and Star alone, and I’ll leave you alone. The end. Yeah?”

Jazz cycled his vents, then shut his optics. For a moment, there was nothing, but then that white light swept the world away.

~

Jazz opened his optics only to reel back. Before him stood the Mourning Seeker, face cupped in its hands, wings low. Maybe lower than usual. He didn’t take his optics off it, but -barely daring to breathe- Jazz opened his comms.

“ _Star?_ ”

There was a long pause, static crackling over the obviously open comm line, then- “ _Jazz?_ ” Starscream asked- gasped really. “ _Jazz! Where have you **been**?!_ ” he shrieked loud enough to hurt even over internal comms.

Jazz blinked, then bit out a curse. The Mourning Seeker was gone, and slag him, but Jazz was sure he’d heard dark laughter. Not waiting around to get caught again, Jazz dashed to the end of the alley and nearly sobbed to see the usual grubby street outside his and Starscream’s box of an apartment. “ _Taken. You home, sweetspark?_ ”

There was a pause on the comms, and Jazz inched his way around the corner to peer into the shadowy doorway into the building. “ _What do you mean ‘taken’?_ ” Starscream sounded less angry, but that only allowed the hurt to filter through.

Jazz’s spark gave a throb of pain. “ _I’ll explain everything once we’re face ta face. Are ya in our apartment? Are ya somewhere safe?_ ”

“ _I’m home,_ ” Starscream replied, his voice a whisper.

“ _Don’t move. Don’t open the door for any reason. I’m comin’ up right now._ ” Jazz hurried up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, helm swiveling all around to be sure, but he thought he might be alone.

“ _You’re scaring me, Jazz_ ” Starscream whispered again, and Jazz hoped that was because he was trying to hide the sound of tears in his voice and not because he was trying to hide from some _thing_ stalking him.

“ _I’m sorry. I’m almost there. I’m ok. Not bein’ followed right now. Just stay put._ ”

“ _You’ve been gone so long,_ ” That was definitely a whimper, and Jazz’s spark contracted at the pain he heard under the words.

Then he was at the door and punched in the lock code engraved on his mind, but the door didn’t open. The energon in Jazz’s lines chilled. “ _Star? Sweetspark? I’m at the door._ ”

“ _I changed the code when I thought you left me._ ”

Jazz sighed and felt his own optics burn as he rested his helm against the door. “ _I didn’t wanna leave, babe. I’ve spend every moment away tryin’ ta get back ta ya._ ”

Silence echoed over the comm for a moment before it was cut with a click. Jazz’s knees gave out in grief, but then the door slid open, and he looked up into the face he’d ached to see. Starscream’s optics were pale and his face damp, his lips pressed hard together even as the tremble in his wings gave away the effort he was spending to leash his field and not sob.

Jazz threw himself forward, arms flung up and around the Seeker’s shoulders. Frag poise or control. He wept into Starscream’s shoulder, fingers digging into the gaps of plating to cling tight. Behind him, the door shut with a hiss, and Jazz let Starscream pull him over to sit on the berth side by side. It was all Jazz could do not to crawl right into the Seeker’s lap, but he wasn’t actually sure that was welcome, and his spark wouldn’t survive the rejection.

“You owe me one Pit of an explanation. You hear me?!” Starscream said, and while he sounded angry and hurt, Jazz could feel the relief in his field. He clung just as tightly to Jazz as well.

“Promise,” Jazz said. “I’m so sorry, love. I swear I didn’t wanna go.”

“You couldn’t comm me, you aft?” Starscream demanded as he gripped Jazz’s shoulders and pushed a bit so they could face each other. “And off,” he snapped, rapping a fingertip hard against Jazz’s visor. “I want to _see_ you.”

The visor was retracted immediately. “I wasn’t able ta comm ya. I swear if I could have, I would have. I just got back here, and I know ya’re gonna think I’m nuts, but-” Jazz shook his helm and scrubbed at his optics. “I’m so sorry, Star.” He gave his lover as thorough a look as he could while they were sitting, but he seemed all right. A bit dull on the finish. There was an exhaustion and weariness in his field that hurt and anger and confusion couldn’t mask. But he seemed energetic, and the hands on Jazz’s arms had a firm grip.

Starscream eyed Jazz right back, a frown marring his dark face. “You’re awfully clean,” he said.

Jazz blinked at that, but it was true. “I have a decent amount of energon on me too. Stole it from a mech that didn’t deserve ta have his stores raided, but once I tell ya what I’ve been through-”

“What you’ve been through?” Starscream asked, cutting Jazz off. He rose, wings hiked up, and Jazz stayed on the edge of the berth despite wanting to grasp after the mech and drag him back. Starscream glared down at Jazz. “What _you’ve_ been through?” He huffed a laugh, but it was mirthless, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I thought you left me. I…” He shook his helm and wouldn’t look back at Jazz as he began to pace.

Jazz shook his helm too, but in denial. “I didn’t.” His lines went cold at the thought that he might still lose Starscream even though he was finally home. “I love ya, Star. I didn’t want ta leave. I begged ‘em not ta take me. I begged ‘em ta bring me home every time. I finally killed two of ‘em. Slagger was _supposed_ ta bring me back to the moment he stole me from.” The last was a growl, and rage melted the fear.

“You aren’t making sense,” Starscream said. “Every time what? Bring you back to the _moment_ he stole you from?” The Seeker crossed his arms over his chest and chewed on his lower lip.

Jazz wanted to pull him close and suck on the abused spot, but instead clenched his fists and restrained himself. “I know. And I wanna tell ya all of it, but most importantly, ya need ta know how much danger we’re in.” He stood and stepped closer to Starscream, the icy fear back as he realized just what the Mourning Seeker could be planning. It was rather unlikely the thing had forgiven Jazz and decided to move on. “Oh, Primus,” he gasped and gripped Starscream’s wrist. “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. We’re in so much trouble.”

Starscream stared from Jazz’s optics to where his hand was locked around his wrist, then sighed. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes. Fine.” Starscream lifted his arm and twisted it gently out of Jazz’s grip. “If you’re still here in the morning when I return, I’ll let you explain it to me.”

“What?! No!” Jazz snatched after Starscream again, but despite the lack of space and how agile Jazz was, the Seeker still managed to dodge him. “You don’t understand! Ya can’t go out alone. He’ll get ya. He’s gonna be gunnin’ for ya because of me!”

Starscream gave his wings a hard flick and turned narrow, furious red optics on Jazz. “You have been gone for nearly a _year_ , Jazz! No emergency ping. No comms. Nothing. I was afraid for you when you didn’t return from your shift. I called your manager, but he said you never showed up. I contacted the enforcers and reported your disappearance,” he hissed. “They said I had to wait. They told me I had to see if you came back, and if not, then in three days to call them again. I called every day. Every _hour_. I had your manager call and back me up that you wouldn’t just jaunt off. That you were responsible. That if you _could_ you _would_ call me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying that!” Starscream shrieked. His optics blazed and overflowed, and his hands clenched into fists. “Just stop it!”

Jazz bit his lip and swallowed another apology before it could escape.

“I’ve mourned. I’ve raged. I’ve… moved on.”

A soft whimper escaped Jazz, but he clenched his jaw. He had known that Starscream would suffer in his absence, but was it really too late? Was this the monster’s revenge? Bring him back too late to salvage the life he’d longed for?

“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Starscream said, his voice softer but still trembling in anger. “When they finally allowed me to file the report, I had to go to the local office to do it. Well,” he huffed and threw his arms out to the side. “I’m sure you can imagine what they thought as soon as they saw me. Still, they were decent enough to take the report, but guess what they found?”

“Nothing,” Jazz whispered.

Starscream’s optics narrowed more. “They found _nothing_!” he hissed. “There was no Jazz. I gave them an image capture of you, and they searched and searched, and nothing came up.” A soft laugh escaped while Starscream scrubbed a hand over his face, then across his helm. His arm dropped. “I think the desk officer only continued to help out of his own curiosity. He even checked with Polyhex.”

I’m sorry, Jazz wanted to say, but he didn’t. What did his apologies mean? He should have said something to Starscream before about how he really ended up in that alley. He should have warned him then, and to the Pits with sounding crazy. He _had_ to come clean now, and it wasn’t like he would sound less insane. Only now he didn’t have the benefit of Starscream’s untarnished faith in him.

“Nothing, Jazz. He found nothing, and then of course came the pity.” Starscream sneered. “Poor stupid Seeker. The mech lied. This Jazz,” the Seeker said in clear imitation of the officer, “must be some criminal. Changed his face and frame and name, took you for a ride.” Starscream snorted and pinned Jazz with a furious scowl. “Best to get over him. Move on and keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Star...”

“No!” Starscream jabbed a finger at Jazz’s face as he stepped in closer. “No, don’t you dare,” he growled. “I have fallen so low to keep this apartment _just in case_ you decided to come home. I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Jazz hiccupped a half sob. Oh, Primus, this was his Starscream. Demand an explanation, then not let Jazz give it. “I missed you,” he whispered and ignored the tears that slipped down his cheeks.

Starscream grabbed him and lifted him into a hard hug. His field was a jangled, jagged mess, but then so was Jazz’s, and neither of them were holding back. Jazz clung and let himself cry as his Seeker did. “I missed you too, you frelling glitch.”

“Please don’t go out alone,” Jazz begged. “I’ll go with ya, then after your shift we can talk, but ya gotta believe me. He’s gonna come after ya. I know he will. I killed his mates.”

Starscream set Jazz down and gave him a sad smile. “Oh, I don’t have a shift… exactly… tonight.”

Jazz’s spark bottomed out in sudden understanding. “Oh, sweetspark…”

“This place was never one I could afford on my own,” Starscream said. “Not on a bartender’s pay.” He shrugged and moved past Jazz to sit on the berth once more.

Jazz followed and took his hand between both of his own. “Oh, Star.”

“I managed with dancing for a bit. Your manager gave me a chance to cover an earlier shift that opened when that dancer moved to your time slot. But… Well, I’m a Seeker after all, and it wasn’t long until I received an offer. I declined at first, but I’m not the dancer you are. I think they knew I hated them, and it’s not like being behind the bar. They like it when I snap and sass them. Dancing’s different.” Starscream gave Jazz a sad smile. “They’re paying for the fantasy, and I couldn’t pretend I wanted them. So when he came back and offered again, I accepted.”

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” Jazz whispered.

“It’s not so bad,” Starscream said with a shrug of his wings. “Really the worst part was- is the guilt. It feels like I’m betraying you every time, even though you weren’t here, and it was that or crawl back into the gutters.” He squeezed Jazz’s fingers and cycled his vents. “He’s not cruel to me. In fact, I think he’s just lonely and likes to pretend he’s living a finer life than he is. He can only just barely afford his monthly pet Seeker visit, but it’s allowed me to stay here and cling to hope.”

“I’m back. I ain’t leavin’,” Jazz insisted. “I didn’t just up and leave before, babe, I swear. I was taken. Abducted.”

Starscream nodded, though Jazz suspected it was in acknowledgment not belief. “I have to get ready to leave,” he said, then leaned down to kiss Jazz’s cheek and rested his helm against Jazz’s with a sigh. “ _If_ you’re here when I come back, we’ll talk. I’ll let you talk, and I’ll try to believe you.”

Jazz bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood, and managed a nod of his own. “Stay in populated areas. If he comes for ya, it’ll be fast, and it’ll be where no one else can see ya. What time should I start worryin’?” As if he wouldn’t worry himself half to death the whole time Starscream was gone.

Starscream inhaled a shaky breath. “Dawn. If I’m not back by dawn, if you haven’t heard from me…” He let the words hang, and Jazz tipped his helm up to press a soft kiss to Starscream’s lips.

“I’ll be here. I’ll be right here,” Jazz promised. “Just stay in populated areas and come home.”


	8. Chapter 8

The night was interminable. Jazz tried to curl up on the berth, but it felt too large and cold without Starscream there, so he ended up pacing a short track back and forth in front of the door.

All-consuming rage hit first. That fragging monster had dumped him back in the right world, but not when it had taken Jazz from. Nearly a year, Starscream had said. Nearly a year that Starscream had been all alone, stuck trying to survive without Jazz, wondering, praying, hurting, thinking the worst. All he had lost in his life, and then to have Jazz disappear without a trace as well. Then he had sacrificed even more, doing a job he loathed and refused to allow Jazz to take for the sake of their survival. Oh, sure. It could be worse. Instead of just one mech flush enough to buy a night now and then with a down and out Seeker, Starscream could have been reduced to a back alley buymech, servicing whoever he could manage for the night, one optic always open for the law or the Bleeders or worse.

Jazz clenched his fists and growled, his pacing picking up speed for a few minutes as the fury burned hotter, but it didn’t last. He wasn’t jealous. Knowing what Starscream was doing wouldn’t bother Jazz at all if he knew the Seeker was willing and wanted to do it. It was that Starscream wouldn’t have chosen this if he had any other viable choice. Sadness, deep and heavy crushed Jazz’s spark.

It wasn’t long before icy fear crept back in. The Mourning Seeker was out there, and there was no doubt in Jazz’s mind now that the creature had brought him home so he could exact his revenge. Jazz hadn’t thought it through. He’d been angry, homesick, alone too long. The mechs around him didn’t count because they weren’t _really_ his friends. They didn’t know him; he couldn’t tell them about himself. He couldn’t get close again, because _look what kept frelling happening_! He wasn’t wrong to kill the monsters, but he had given them the perfect way to destroy him more than they already had, and now one was going to.

Jazz found himself sniffling, huddled in a corner of their room when his internal alerts pinged him that Starscream should be home soon. He blinked around the dim room to see, but they had no window. That would have cost more.

_Pull it t’gether, Jazzy_ , he thought and pushed himself back to his feet. Jazz stumbled to the washrack to clean his face, then drained a cube. He was exhausted. His spark _ached_ , and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop the trembling as he waited, anxious and afraid to even breathe, for Starscream to come home.

The lock beeped, and Jazz’s spark nearly leapt out of its crystal. Starscream slipped inside and relocked the door. He blinked at Jazz, then his wings shook and dipped a bit lower.

“You’re still here.”

Jazz’s vents hitched. “Said I would be.” _Don’t ask me ta leave. Please… please don’t ask me ta leave._

Starscream shook his helm and crossed the few steps between them. “I think I almost convinced myself I imagined you back,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Jazz in a tight hug.

Ozone and fluids filled the air that surrounded Jazz, but he clung back just as tight until Starscream edged back.

“I need to wash up, then we can talk,” Starscream said and stepped toward the washrack.

Jazz followed, unwilling to let the mech out of his sight, but a blue hand stopped him. “I can wash your wings.”

Starscream shook his helm, shame coating his field before he clamped down on it.

“Sweetspark, I don’t care about that,” Jazz said, his tone pleading. “I hate that ya had ta do somethin’ ya hate, but ya haven’t betrayed me. It’s a job.”

“Just…” Starscream sighed and shook his head again. “Stay here,” he said firmly. “Just stay here and let me deal with this, then we’ll talk.” He didn’t give Jazz another chance to argue and quickly ducked into the washrack.

Jazz sat on the edge of the berth and listened to the muffled patter of cleanser. Time dragged on, and it was all he could do not to get up and pace again, but he was afraid of the impression that would give Starscream when he came back out. He knew the Seeker was being more thorough than necessary as it just didn’t take this long to wash up. Not since that first shower they shared.

Jazz’s spark clenched, drawing a pained gasp from him at the sudden memory.

“Jazz?”

Jazz startled, blinking up at Starscream where he stood gleaming in the washrack doorway. “Yeah?”

Starscream eyed him with his helm tipped for a moment, then shut off the washroom light and crossed to the berth to sit as well. “All right. I want the whole story. I don’t care how crazy you think you sound. You left for work, then what?”

For a moment, Jazz couldn’t get his vocalizer to work. He had wound himself up too much worrying over whether Starscream would come back at all. Then, if he did, would he have decided Jazz wasn’t worth the trouble? Would he just toss Jazz out without allowing an explanation? Jazz hadn’t given any thought at all to how he would actually word the insane story he had been living, and he struggled to find a place to start. “Got almost through the alley when I heard it behind me. They make this… shushing scrape kind of sound. Always come from behind you.” He met Starscream’s optics, begging to be believed. “I told them I was happy. Begged ‘em not ta take me away, but they did.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Starscream twisted to the side, bringing one knee up onto the berth, so Jazz turned too. He tucked his feet in, legs akimbo and hands clenched in his lap.

“The Mourning Seekers.” Jazz watched Starscream's face, but there was no recognition. After a moment, however, annoyance began to filter into his field. Jazz quickly lifted a hand. “They aren’t Seekers- Vosians. They’re somethin’ else. Some kinda monster.”

“Jazz,” Starscream said in a warning tone.

“No, babe, listen ta me.” Jazz cycled his vents and tried again. “Not real Seekers. They just have that shape, but I don’t know why. They aren’t like you or your frame type. They ain’t real mechs. Pits, they might not even be Cybertronian.”

“Some alien mimic?” Starscream asked, the annoyance fading to intrigue.

“Honestly, Star, I don’t know.” Jazz rubbed his hands along his thighs, rocking a little in place. “Ya couldn’t find a record of me cuz I ain’t from this world. This… reality.”

“You’re telling me that there are multiple realities,” Starscream said flatly.

“Yes. Fraggin’ dozens at least, cuz the bastards bounced me through them,” Jazz replied and leaned forward. He pushed all the sincerity he could into his field. “That’s the thing though. In every reality I hit, I never existed, and most of them had no record of the Mourning Seekers. A youngling tale here. A bit of psychological warfare in the form of a horror story soldiers tell ta each other in the dark.”

Starscream sighed. “Jazz. You aren’t making any sense.”

“Ya said ta tell ya what happened. Well I am,” Jazz insisted. “I left here, cut through the alley cuz I was stupid and figured that whatever cruel twist of fate yanked me from my world and dumped me here was actually a blessing. I didn’t know that they were a thing, with sapience and thought and form. I thought it was a glitch. Or… well, honestly at first I thought I’d been captured by the ‘Cons and Soundwave was playin’ around in my head.”

“The Decepticons? The Lord High Protector’s little group of revolutionaries?” Starscream stared at Jazz in confusion and disbelief.

“I’m not lyin’,” Jazz insisted. “But fine, let’s cut it short here. There were three Mourning Seekers. They look like Seekers, but stone, and they stand around with their faces hidden in their hands. There were three.”

“But you killed his mates,” Starscream added slowly, his optics widening a bit.

“Yeah. It was dumb, but I was sick of it. Ya said it’s been almost a year here?” Jazz shook his helm. “It’s been over two for me. They’d grab me every few months and bounce me to a different Cybertron. Mech I met along the way named Kup said that’s how they feed. But it usually kills the mech they take. No idea why I’m alive.”

Starscream stared at Jazz for a moment, then asked, “Was I in these other worlds?”

“Yeah. Some of them at least,” Jazz answered. “I didn’t go lookin’ though. We-” He cut off, afraid to say that he and the Seeker in front of him weren’t on the same side of the war, but Starscream’s optics narrowed, and a frown gathered on his face like a coming storm. “We weren’t friends in those worlds, Star. You didn’t know me.”

“That’s not the truth.”

“It is. Only other world you and I knew each other in was the one I come from, and we weren’t friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were Megatron’s Second in Command, and I was Optimus Prime’s co-Second and head of Spec Ops.” Jazz watched as Starscream’s dark face shifted from surprise to disbelief to anger. “I ain’t lyin’.”

“If that’s true, then what was your real plan when you found me in that dumpster?” Starscream demanded.

Jazz shrugged. “I was half feral by then. Wasn’t lyin’ when I said I was all but Empty. Ya didn’t know me, but I knew how smart ya were. I could see how much younger ya were than when we knew each other.”

“You were going to hurt me.”

“No,” Jazz said, the word coming out sharp. “No, I had no plans ta hurt ya if ya didn’t hurt me. When I saw ya didn’t recognize me, I figured I could help ya. I don’t know what drove ya ta Megatron in my world, but I saw this youngling, broken and hurtin’ and I thought I could keep ya from becomin’-”

“Becoming what, Jazz?!”

“A murderer. A psychopath,” Jazz replied softly. He dropped his gaze to his hands. “I knew ya were smart. Knew ya were educated. I didn’t expect ta fall for ya, but I knew that if ya weren’t the crazy, power-hungry glitch yet that I’d known before, that we could maybe drag ourselves up. My offer was sincere when I made it. I love ya, Star,” he said and looked back up to meet Starscream’s optics with his own. “Frag everything else that happened. Ya aren’t that slagger who murdered the Senate or terrorized Praxus. Ya’re a completely different mech in this world, and I love ya. I’ve been desperate ta get back here, and I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry he brought me back a year late. And I’m sorry that I’ve fragged us both over so badly. He’s still out there. And if ya don’t believe anything else I’ve said, please believe this-

“There is a being out there that can hunt _well_ , and it _will_ hurt you to take its revenge on me. It knows how much I love ya, and it knows just how desperate I was ta get back here ta this world. To you.”

Jazz fell silent, and Starscream didn’t say a word. For a few minutes all he did was stare, and then he finally heaved a sigh and rubbed his face with both hands.

“I am such a fool.”

“No, ya aren’t,” Jazz said instantly.

Starscream snorted. “Oh yes I am. I believe you were taken away. I believe you didn’t want to leave and have tried hard to get home.” He sighed again, helm shaking. “I love you, you crazy glitch. And if you say there’s some maniac out there that’ll hurt us- hurt _me_ to get back at you, then I will just have to believe you and be careful.” Jazz bit his lip to keep from arguing that it wasn’t just ‘some maniac’. However, he could sense Starscream’s trouble swallowing this all too well, and he didn’t want to push or say the wrong thing that would topple it all before he had a chance to prove himself in some way.

“I am glad you’re home,” Starscream said, his voice soft.

“Me too. I’ll… uh, go job huntin’ tomorrow.” Jazz dropped his gaze to his fingers where they knotted in his lap, his spark sinking. It wasn’t like he expected Starscream to buy the whole thing without question, but to be viewed as just a trauma victim that made everything up to cope-

Jazz’s spark pulsed hard, and for a moment he wondered. What if he _had_ made it all up? Oh sure, someone abducted him-

No. No, slaggit! It was real and had happened.

“I’m really tired, Jazz,” Starscream said, and he sounded it. “And I still work the bar, so I need to rest for my shift.”

“Want me ta ‘charge on the floor?” Jazz offered even as he tried to quash the hope that welled up in his spark.

“Yes,” Starscream murmured. “I think that’d be best.”

Jazz’s optics burned, but he slipped off the berth without protest and settled on the floor. “Ya think it’s just trauma,” Jazz said as he listened to Starscream settle himself on the berth.

“I don’t know what I think,” Starscream said on another sigh. “It’s too much, Jazz. Alternate realities are an unproven hypothesis, but… they could exist. You traveling from one to another to another?” There was another heavy sigh. “Something happened to you, and I believe you about there being _someone_ willing to hurt me just to hurt you. I’m strung out. Exhausted. So are you. So let’s just… recover and let it soak in for a while. Alright? We’ll be careful. I promise.”

“’Kay.” Jazz would have to keep watch. They both would, and they couldn’t let their guard drop. It was out there, waiting. Jazz firmed up his resolve as he listened to Starscream’s systems slow. He was going to find that fragger and destroy it, even if Starscream never believed the full truth.

“Not gonna fail ya again, Star. Promise.”

Starscream shifted on the berth, and a hand bumped Jazz’s arm before sliding down to grasp his hand. Jazz clung tight, spark throbbing and optics hot. “Good night, Jazz.”

“Night,” Jazz whispered back.

~ | ~

The first few weeks were the roughest. Jazz told Starscream he didn’t want there to be secrets between them anymore, but it was hard to tell the truth when it made the Seeker look at him with so much concern. Starscream loved him, Jazz knew that much, but he genuinely thought Jazz had lost his mind from the trauma of his abduction. They truly were careful, however, so Jazz chose to ease off the truth of his history a bit and just roll with the flow. He found a job dancing again, and after a few more weeks, Starscream said goodbye to the mech he was selling his time and body to. Thankfully, the mech took it in stride and even wished the Seeker well. That was one less thing for Jazz to worry about.

Jazz never stopped looking for the Mourning Seeker though. He was careful because he didn’t want to look like he was looking, and slowly, so slowly, he started to relax more. Starscream didn’t bring it up, but the tension between them eased as Jazz became less outwardly vigilant, and the Seeker didn’t seem to mind when Jazz stuck close, or reminded him to stay in public, well-lit places. Especially outside.

“Have a good shift, sweetspark,” Jazz said as they stopped by the bar’s door.

“You do the same,” Starscream said, then pecked a kiss to Jazz’s cheek before slipping inside the bar.

Half a block down was the club Jazz danced at, and it was pure habit that made him lift his helm and scan the ledges before he walked in the door to start his own shift.

Ice shot through his lines, and he commed Starscream even as he stood in the doorway, spark pounding.

“ _What’s wrong, Jazz?_ ”

“ _I’m lookin’ right at it,_ ” Jazz replied. “ _It’s right up on the ledge across the avenue from my club. Face in its hands, wings arched high._ ”

“ _Jazz…_ ”

“ _Just look!_ ” Jazz snapped. “ _I ain’t makin’ it up. I’m lookin’ right up at it!_ ”

The comms were quiet for a few minutes, and Jazz wondered if Starscream was going to humor him or if this was the breaking point. Then, “ _That Seeker statue?_ ” Starscream asked.

“ _Ya see it?_ ”

“ _Yes. Yes, Jazz, I see it,_ ” Starscream said. The sound of him cycling his vents came over the comms. “ _Alright. I have to get set up._ ”

“Star-”

“ _I see it, but I have to start my shift and so do you,_ ” Starscream said, and his tone grated against every sensor node in Jazz’s body. He didn’t need to be soothed! He needed the mech he loved to take this threat seriously. “ _We’re in public places, right? There are security cameras in the bar. There are security cameras watching the door to your club. We’re safe, Jazz. Go work, and comm me before you leave._ ”

“ _Tell me when ya’re inside,_ ” Jazz said, optics locked on the Mourning Seeker. He still had some explosives in his subspace, but how could he get up there without taking his gaze off of it?

“ _I’m already inside. Jazz. Go work, sweetling._ ”

“ _Ya aren’t takin’ this as serious as ya oughta, _” Jazz said, then gasped as a mech jostled him on his way out the door. He hurried to look back up at the Mourning Seeker, but it was still there.__

__“ _Yes, I am. I promise you, I won’t set foot out the door without talking to you first. Promise me the same, then get to your shift._ ”_ _

__What else could Jazz say? He gave the statue one last look, then ducked into the club. “ _I promise,_ ” he said, then closed the comms._ _

__~_ _

__“Where is it?” Starscream asked, his face lifted and optics on the spot where the Mourning Seeker had been before their shifts began._ _

__“Dunno,” Jazz replied as they started walking. “Believe me now?”_ _

__Starscream’s wing bumped against Jazz’s back. “I believed you before.”_ _

__“Not about a reality jumping Seeker statue that snatched me from my world, dumped me in a bunch more before landing me here, then stole me away again,” Jazz said, but he was grinning. He didn’t know where the slagger was, but now he had _proof_ , and Starscream knew he wasn’t crazy. “Stop lookin’ around like that, sweetspark. I think it appeared today cuz I’ve been real careful about not lookin’ like I’ve been lookin’ for it.”_ _

__Starscream huffed and clutched Jazz’s hand a little tighter, but he stopped swiveling his helm around in every direction. “What do we do?”_ _

__“We get home,” Jazz said, and tugged Starscream’s hand so they could hurry across the avenue toward their block. “Stay on the outside edge of the sidewalk. If ya get a funny feelin’, let me know. If ya can’t see what’s ahead of ya, don’t go there.”_ _

__“Were you really in Special Operations?” Starscream asked._ _

__“Yup.”_ _

__“You were a… Jazz,” Starscream hissed and dragged them to a stop. A mech walking behind them cursed and glared back as he passed, but neither of them cared. Jazz glanced around to see if the Seeker had seen their stalker, then looked back up at Starscream._ _

__“What?”_ _

__Starscream leaned in close and whispered, “You were a spy, weren’t you? That’s what Special Operations is.”_ _

__“Remember when we sent Optimus _Toward Peace_?” Jazz asked with a grin._ _

__Red optics shot wide. “You didn’t hack the comms, you knew the code.” Starscream straightened, his free hand lifting to cover his mouth. “Primus,” he whimpered._ _

__“Hey,” Jazz said gently and squeezed Starscream’s fingers. “Let’s get home. I need that powerful processor of yours ta help me solve this little problem we got. Yeah?”_ _

__Starscream stared down at Jazz with those wide optics for another moment before blinking. He visibly drew his composure back around him then turned to start walking again._ _

__They were home before long, though they both hesitated at the shadowy entrance to their building. “Easy fix, babe.” Jazz turned on his alt mode’s headlights, and the empty space in front of them lit up. On the sidewalk, a mech snorted and muttered something about cowards, but he was ignored. Fragger didn’t know what was out there and probably getting hungry by now._ _

__“We’re clear,” Jazz murmured, and Starscream nodded._ _

__As one, they stepped forward and entered the building. Jazz was certain to tug the door shut behind them, and he followed Starscream up without letting go of his hand. They checked corners, and Jazz stood guard as Starscream unlocked their door, then shifted so Jazz could shine his headlights inside their room before either of them reached in. They were being more cautious than probably needed, but Jazz was just happy that Starscream _really_ believed him now._ _

__Lights on, door locked, and the washrack checked just to be sure, and Starscream finally faced Jazz. “I should apologize.”_ _

__Jazz flapped a hand at him then began pulling everything he had in his subspace out to take a real inventory. “Believe me, Star, I knew exactly how crazy it all sounded.”_ _

__“Is that… Primus, Jazz! Where did you get that much detonation cord?”_ _

__“Stole it from the armory worlds ago.” Jazz pulled out all his spare energon, the C-4, a handful of sticky grenades, seven various blasters, a handful of datapads, and a number of other goodies he had saved in case he needed them._ _

__Starscream stood to the side, hands over his mouth and optics wide._ _

__“So, now the question is how do we trap it? And once we catch it how do we blow it ta the Pit without destroying half the city?”_ _

__“Oh _that’s_ the question?” Starscream asked, then laughed helplessly. “Primus, Jazz!”_ _

__Jazz snickered and looked up at the Seeker. “I might… _might_ have used a bit too much on the other two, but better safe than the fragger gettin’ away. So help me, babe. What’d’ya got that can contain a blast?”_ _

__Starscream stared back, and Jazz was reminded once again just how much this mech was _not_ the warrior that razed half of Cybertron to the ground. Jazz stood, moving slowly, and reached out to take Starscream’s hands. “Sweetspark? It’s a lot, huh?”_ _

__“It’s all true,” Starscream whispered. “Everything you tried to tell me. It’s all true.”_ _

__“Yeah.” Jazz squeezed the blue fingers then lifted one hand so he could kiss the knuckles. “Can ya deal with this, Star? I need ya with me on this. I need your smarts and your science.”_ _

__“This… thing,” Starscream said slowly as he lifted his gaze from the weapons on their berth to meet Jazz’s visor. “You killed its mates. Its trine. Now it’s showed itself to us.”_ _

__“When ya see it, means it’s comin’ for ya. That’s what I was told,” Jazz confirmed._ _

__Starscream shut his optics and inhaled deeply, all vents open, then exhaled in a whoosh. When he opened his optics again, Jazz couldn’t help but smile. There was a determination there that Jazz recognized. “Alright.” Starscream pulled away and drew a datapad from his subspace. “Containment.”_ _

__“Yeah. We can try ta lead it outta the city, but we’re safer here, I think.” Jazz began arranging the explosives. “Got some serious firepower here, so if we can trap it, we can kill it.”_ _

__“Mmn.” Starscream leaned over the berth and pulled a datapad from their shelf, thumbing it on as he stepped back then knelt on the floor. “There was a mech at the academy, vorns before I even applied. He had worked out how to create a localized energy shield.”_ _

__“Trailbreaker,” Jazz said with a fond smile._ _

__“No, the inventor’s name was Wheeljack,” Starscream corrected, optics on the datapad as he scrolled and scrolled. “It’s complicated to build, but I fiddled with the design a bit before deciding on xenobiology and galactic exploration. It’s an energy guzzler though.”_ _

__Jazz nodded. “Trailbreaker was a mech who had a force field installed. Good mech. Always did feel bad about how much more energon he needed than most the rest of us.”_ _

__Starscream blinked at Jazz then shook his helm and went back to his datapad. “These mechs- none of them know you in this world?”_ _

__“No. I didn’t exist here before those things grabbed me and dropped me in that alley.” Jazz tucked away the energon first, then the blasters, magnacuffs- “Oh. Forgot I snagged this.” He held up the electro whip with a teasing smirk. “Ever handle one of these before?”_ _

__Starscream frowned in momentary confusion then snorted. “I’ll learn.”_ _

__Jazz purred, but then refocused on the business at hand. Though his spark thrilled that Starscream was actually flirting with him again. Jazz had been allowed back up on the berth so he could recharge better, but the tension and emotional distance remained. “So, no. No one here knows me, so we can’t go askin’ if that’s what ya were gettin’ at.”_ _

__“It was.”_ _

__“But we can go thievin’,” Jazz said._ _

__Starscream tilted his helm, expression incredulous. “The inventor has a reputation. We can’t just jaunt over to his labs and poke around.”_ _

__Jazz snickered and rewound the det cord into a smaller coil before tucking it back into his subspace. “Sweetspark, I could glitch your processors with the slag I’ve pulled off.”_ _

__“You don’t know Wheeljack’s codes.” Starscream sat back on his heels, hands on his hips and fear radiating from him._ _

__Jazz reached out to grip the Seeker’s arm, pushing comfort and confidence through his field. “No, I don’t know all of ‘em. But he did give me an algorithm once when I had ta run a mission he couldn’t be spared ta go on. I can get us in. We’ll borrow the shield generator, then we can take it back once we kill us a monster.”_ _

__Starscream’s frown deepened. “I’m coming with you.”_ _

__Jazz smiled and gave Starscream’s arm another squeeze before he let go. “Didn’t for an instant think of leavin’ ya behind.”_ _

__Starscream heaved a sigh, but then began scribbling on the datapad. The short movements looked like a list, though Jazz couldn’t see the glyphs. “Alright. How do we hunt this thing?”_ _

__“We don’t,” Jazz said. “We let it hunt us.” He picked up the piece of broken mirror from the berth and held it out to Starscream. “Don’t try ta turn and look at it. It’s fraggin’ fast, Star. So fast. Ya can have this piece. There’s a busted mirror in the club I can grab a new piece from.”_ _

__Starscream took the mirror piece and lifted it, glancing at Jazz for approval as he angled it over his shoulder._ _

__“Just like that,” Jazz said. “And don’t blink. If ya trap it, ya’re stuck right there in that position. Keep your optics on it and comm me. Ya look away, ya blink, and it’ll grab ya.”_ _

__White wingtips trembled, and Starscream lowered the mirror piece. “What does it look like? Its face?”_ _

__“Pretty. Like a Seeker.” Jazz reached out and traced a fingertip down Starscream’s cheek. “Narrower face than yours, and it had its fangs bared. It was fragged with me, so it looked it.” He shook his helm then leaned in to steal a kiss from his Seeker. “It’s not some horror ta look upon or anything, but there’s this… I dunno. Instinctive fear? Ya’ll wanna look away. Ya’ll be desperate ta close your optics and not see it, but if ya do, babe, that’s it. It’ll take ya, and whether ya die from it or not, we’re not likely ta find each other again. It brought me back here for revenge, not as a favor or ta buy a chance at peace.”_ _

__Starscream shivered but nodded. “Don’t look away. I understand.” He gave Jazz a soft smile. “When do you want to try to rob the most dangerous inventor of our age?”_ _

__Jazz laughed. “Let’s give it a couple weeks. We wanna lull that thing inta thinkin’ we’re not watchin’ for it anymore. Then we’ll go find that shield.”_ _

__“Alright.” Starscream cycled his vents then picked up a sticky grenade. “We should each carry half of these supplies of yours. Just in case. If we catch it before we get the shield generator…”_ _

__“We kill it,” Jazz said. “No matter what, that fragger’s gotta die, and I’d rather go ta prison than let it slip away ta be more cautious in its approach and get one of us.”_ _

__“You mean me,” Starscream said, his voice soft. “You killed its mates, so it’s going to kill yours.” Jazz nodded, but Starscream shook his helm firmly and knelt up to begin dividing the explosives into two groups. “Frag that. It’s not going to get me or you ever again.”_ _

__~ | ~_ _

__Jazz felt Starscream’s back pressed to his own, but most of his attention was buried in the internal landscape of the lock he was trying to hack without setting off Wheeljack’s alarms. The algorithm was good, but Wheeljack was very aware of how dangerous most of his creations were, and he kept them carefully locked away from hands that could and would use them for ill._ _

__“Got it,” Jazz whispered as the last light lit green and the door hissed open, metal whispering as it slid back along its track. He stepped in, scanners sweeping on their highest setting for any secondary tripwires, but they were safe._ _

__Behind Jazz, Starscream tensed, and when Jazz looked, the Seeker’s helm was swiveling in all directions, wings twitching. “Star?”_ _

__Starscream frowned, then shook his helm as the door slid shut, the lock beeping when it automatically engaged. “I’m jumpy,” he whispered in reply. “Air pressure changes when going from outdoors to in. I know that. I’ve had wings all my life.”_ _

__Jazz patted the Seeker’s arm then started down the first aisle of wide, tall shelves. “Pits, I forgot how much slag he had made, and all this was _before_ the war. Primus…”_ _

__“It’s still weird to hear you say such things,” Starscream muttered as he followed along. They both searched the shelves, looking for the old prototype force field generator the Seeker had drawn so Jazz would know it when he saw it._ _

__They stuck close to one another, and Jazz bit his lip against the tension. “ _Star?_ ” he asked over comms. “ _Feelin’ a bit tense too?_ ”_ _

__“ _Yes. But… Well, we have broken into a highly secured facility we in no way belong in. Bound to be nervous, right?_ ”_ _

__Jazz scowled, optics sweeping all around, particularly _up_ to be sure. “ _Natural to be nervous, yeah. It’s dim in here, and I’m feelin’ a bit more than just nervous. Keep your audials dialed up, and tell me if ya hear any sound ya aren’t completely sure came from one of us._ ”_ _

__“ _Well, it couldn’t get in here,_ ” Starscream said, but he didn’t sound at all as sure as he probably meant to. “ _I mean, how could it? We opened the door, and we stood there while it closed and locked._ ”_ _

__Jazz nodded, but logic wouldn’t ease the tension. “ _Just keep an audial out. That doohickey’s gotta be here somewhere, and once we have that. The fragger is all but slagged._ ”_ _

__They moved through the aisles slowly on silent feet. Jazz was modified and trained, but Starscream was just good at it. Now and then, his foot would scuff the floor, or he would forget himself and tap a shelf as he looked more closely at a stack of devices and parts, but for the most part, there was nothing. No sounds. No conversation._ _

__No damn force field generator._ _

__“Wait,” Starscream hissed as he caught Jazz by the wrist. “There,” he said and pointed past Jazz to a shelf right at Jazz’s shoulder height on their left. “That’s it.”_ _

__Relief flooded Jazz, and he hurried the few steps forward to grab the generator off the shelf._ _

__“Aah!” Starscream sharp scream echoed, and Jazz nearly dropped the device as he whipped around._ _

__Starscream arched back, frozen in place as the Mourning Seeker’s claws hovered over his shoulders, a hair’s breadth from touching him. “Jazz…”_ _

__“Keep your optics on it,” Jazz said, forcing his tone to be calm. “It can’t move if ya’re lookin’ at it. Pits, I don’t think it can even attack in this form if we do touch it, but just ta be on the safe side, go ahead and stand still a sec.” He eased the generator to the floor, then stepped closer to Starscream. “Ok, babe. Just dip straight down.”_ _

__Starscream nodded, his optics wide and bright as he stared at the statue. His wings trembled, but once Jazz’s hand touched his lower back, he bent his knees and slipped down and back. He straightened up and heaved a sigh. Then gave a nervous laugh. “I felt the air pressure change. How much do you want to bet that breeze that startled me was this thing dashing past us in that instant we weren’t looking out the door?”_ _

__“Probably. Fragger.” Jazz cycled his own vents, then began pulling out the explosives. “Ok. How strong a field can that thing generate? I’m not at all interested in blowin’ ourselves up with this glitch, and Primus only knows what else Jack’s got stored in here that’ll go boom.”_ _

__“Are you watching it?” Starscream asked._ _

__“Yeah. Optics on.”_ _

__Starscream crouched, and Jazz heard the shield generator slide across the floor. “I would recommend only using enough to get the job done. Less is better. Once the field’s in place, we can always wait for the dust to settle and then rewire it if it needs a second detonation to destroy.”_ _

__“Think the shield can handle that?”_ _

__“Yes,” Starscream said. “I’m going to wire it into my systems.” Jazz gasped and nearly looked down at his Seeker but managed to stop himself in time. “I can over fuel and control it better than way. And refueling myself will be easier than trying to pour more into this thing’s tiny reservoir without the field strength fluctuating.”_ _

__“If ya’re sure,” Jazz said. He stepped closer to the Mourning Seeker and let a low purr rumble out. “Gotcha, ya bastard.”_ _

__“Don’t taunt it, Jazz. You’re better than that.”_ _

__“I’m really not. Not after what it’s done ta me.” Jazz carefully pressed the putty to the Mourning Seeker as he circled it, eyeing where the det cord could be run. Since he was being careful this time, and the amount of collateral damage mattered, he wanted to be sure he got the cord around the spots that would most easily tear the thing apart. “It might be givin’ ya a peek inta that dark part of my spark I’d rather protect ya from, Star, but destroying this fragger is gonna be a frelling _joy_.”_ _

__Starscream grumbled, but didn’t argue, and for a few quiet moments, they both worked._ _

__“Alright- are you ready?” Starscream asked when he finished._ _

__“Almost. Got your optics on it?”_ _

__“I do now,” Starscream said. “Primus, it’s hard to look at. You were right. It’s not even that it’s ugly, just that I want to squeeze my optics shut and turn away so it’ll go away.”_ _

__“Yeah. But we’re almost done with it.” Jazz pushed the last wire from the ignition box into place. “Ok, timer is ready. What do I set it do? How much time does the field need to reach full strength?”_ _

__Starscream was quiet for a moment before answered, “Set it for thirty. I know I can hold the bubble for at least two minutes without refueling, so that should be safe. Energon ready in case I need more?” he asked._ _

__Jazz did as told then stepped back beside Starscream. “Got a few dozen cubes for ya all set,” Jazz confirmed then smirked at the statue as the force field surrounded it. He watched the timer tick down and knew his grin had turned manic. “Four… three… two…”_ _

__There was a muffled _thump_ , and the closest shelves rattled a bit, parts and metal chiming. Jazz couldn’t help closing his optics against the light of the explosion, but he pried them open as quickly as he could. There was a globe of swirling smoke and dust, outlined by the shimmering iridescence of the force field._ _

__“Doin’ ok, Star?” Jazz asked, unable to look away. Was it really destroyed? Had he _finally_ ended the nightmare? Was he finally free and safe? Was Starscream?_ _

__“I’m fine, but with as slowly as that seems to be settling, I think I should take a cube.”_ _

__Jazz passed the energon over without looking. Time drew out, and the supply of energon dwindled as the debris and smoke finally began to separate. Jazz stepped closer, then moved around to the other side of the bubble to shine his headlights through._ _

__“I think it’s dust, Jazz,” Starscream said. “I can’t see any sort of form in there.”_ _

__Jazz sagged in relief. “Ok. Optics on it just in case. Then release the field.”_ _

__Smoke plumed upward and dust dropped to the ground in a rough circle. Jazz finally looked through it all to smile at Starscream._ _

__For the instant before the fire alarm went off._ _

__“Slag!” Starscream yanked the leads from his ports, then launched toward Jazz. They fled back to the main door, which Jazz didn’t bother with hacking cleanly this time, and as soon as it was open, Starscream grabbed him and took off. Jazz yelped, having never flown while hanging helplessly in the grip of another mech, but he remained still while the Seeker flew them to the top of a nearby building._ _

__Jazz dragged them into a shadow as emergency lights converged on the workshop, then snickered. “Primus, Star,” he whispered._ _

__Starscream snickered as well, though he remained flattened to the roof, his wings tucked low. “I can’t believe neither of us considered that,” he whispered._ _

__Jazz inched forward to peer down over the building, and his spark gave a hard lurch as a familiar white form screeched to a halt and transformed. “Jack,” he breathed then pushed back from the edge to huddle beside Starscream._ _

__“You ok?” Starscream asked and tugged Jazz in close against him._ _

__“It’s good ta see him is all.”_ _

__They were quiet for a while, listening as the occasional voice drifted up to them, the words indistinct, then Starscream said, “You know, there’s nothing stopping you from reintroducing yourself to your old friends anymore.”_ _

__“True.” The idea took root immediately, and Jazz tipped his helm as he looked at Starscream. “I have a crazy idea.”_ _

__“Oh slag,” the Seeker said, but he shook with silent laughter. “Dare I ask?”_ _

__“Nah. I’ll surprise ya.”_ _

__“Primus, save me,” Starscream muttered, then tugged Jazz into a warm and too-short kiss. “I want the whole story,” he said, still careful to keep his voice low. Red and blue lights reflected off the walls of the buildings around them, and there were still voices below. “Every last bit of it this time, and I won’t interrupt.”_ _

__Jazz grinned and stole himself another kiss. “I don’t hold it against ya that ya didn’t believe me.”_ _

__“I know. Now, since we’ll be stuck here a while, tell me.”_ _

__Jazz settled in, audials tuned to any flight transports or mechs that might end up high enough to see them, then said, “For me, it started on the shore of the Rust Sea.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~The End~

**Author's Note:**

> [Multiversal Singularity - Vos by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7262752)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Mourning Seekers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119825) by [PenArt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenArt/pseuds/PenArt)
  * [Multiversal Singularity - Vos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262752) by [LB82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB82/pseuds/LB82)




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